Volatile
by morgn
Summary: COMPLETE - She's something different, something like a slip of wind on a hot day of summer. But when she's angry...no wonder hurricanes are named after girls. OC present and told from their POV. Spideytiger mentioned.
1. i

**I don't really know where the idea for this story came from, but I'm glad it did because I've been thinking about this for weeks and it's annoyed me to no end that i haven't known what to write down. Then, suddenly - this appeared. Hope you guys enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Though friendship is

not quick to burn,

it is explosive stuff

 _ **May Sarton**_

* * *

And to think, he'd _complained_ about doing patrol tonight.

Scouring the rooftops had never been his favorite activity - his heart was in the stars, not on the concrete ground. Even before the star-twisted helmet had found it's way into his hands, his head had been permanently in the clouds, so it was miracle that with his feet dangling over the lip of the world of New York and the glare of his phone in his hands, he'd looked up long enough to find the scrambling form of Batroc. The leaping thief's agile body leaped out of the staircase doorway to the roof, his laugh mingling with the background alarms to his escape.

A smile tugged at his lips and his fingers pocketed the phone carefully away in his suit, standing and stretching with a self-satisfied smirk on his mouth. He lingered where he was, his eyes momentarily searching the stars - Batroc was easy prey, easy enough for the last of the Nova corps to apprehend. "Time to go to work."

The blur of power from his helmet bled down and encased his entire body in a blue glow, his feet making a scraping noise on the rooftop as he was lifted into the air. Elation flooded his body, the sensation of flying was something he treasured dearly. So he set off, arms thrown outwards after the thief that jumped rooftops like it was child's play.

But Batroc disappeared suddenly, veering off of his course sharply and violently when he saw the glowing Nova tailing him, body twisting almost violently in shock at the appearance of the vigilante. Nova felt his lip turn down, a rumble of annoyance fitting itself into his throat as he sped up, in order to catch up to him.

But as he turned to follow Batroc the way he came, Nova felt pain bloom in his chin and he dropped, heart and body falling from it's perch in the stars and smacking into the concrete. A stinging sensation in his upper lip stole focus from the vague recognition of Batroc's brittle laughter. His hand pressed to his mouth and pulled away - blood coated his fingers.

The acrobatic leaper took the chance of the disorientated Nova, bouncing away down the rooftops as he collected himself, brows turning down in anger. Never had Batroc laid a finger on him - he was usually bouncing away, effortlessly slipping out of their fingers and out of jail, back on the streets by the next few days. So he felt his blood boil when the usually useless thief had gotten the jump on him.

"Alright, leapin' loser," he muttered angrily as he watched the retreating form of the yellow-and-purple clad villain, "enjoy the night in a jail cell."

The vigilante teenager reared upwards, much like a bull seeing red and shot through the air towards the escaping criminal. But as Batroc dropped downwards to a lower level of a building and disappeared from sight, Nova suddenly heard a sickening crack - bones being broken and a yelp of pain. In surprise, he pulled back, hovering in mid-air with a perplexed expression and cautiously hovered over towards where Batroc had disappeared, touching the ground and looking downwards.

Below him, Batroc wasn't alone. Below him, a figure clad in blue stood over the unconscious form of the thief, winding a coil of rope around him swiftly. Nova felt his top lip curl - Batroc was _his_ to take out, not this... _whoever_ this was!

"Hey!" he hollered, jumping upwards and onto the lower level of the building, stalking over to the figure that jumped in shock, bouncing away from the unconscious figure of Batroc who groaned in pain. Nova vaguely noticed a marring of bruises across the criminal's cheek. "What the heck do you think you're _doing!?_ I had him!"

The figure turned, and Nova felt his anger melt slightly at the terrified expression on the stranger's face - on the _girl's_ face. He hadn't seen the long tendrils of dark hair down her back in the smear of the night, hadn't noticed the soft and shorter body with telltale signs of a female and felt slightly guilty at the fear in her dark eyes, wrapped with a thin, blue mask. Now, he noticed, that she wasn't just a random civilian who had gotten scared and attacked - she was dressed in a light blue, high-neck open-shoulder shirt that continued down to her elbows, seeing to end in a down pointed triangle at the front and back, over loose fitting navy pants, tucked into combat boots. On her forearms, seemed to be light blue arm guards, as if she had been bred to fight. _Another vigilante, maybe?_

He was tugged from his analysis of her when her body suddenly relaxed, her tight shoulders relaxing and an easy smile pulling at her mouth, though distrust still bristled in the corners of her eyes. "Oh, hi," she answered, stepping forwards and finishing the knot over Batroc's slumped form between them, "you were probably the guy that was chasing this one, right?"

 _Her accent...English? Australian?_ "Yeah, I was - and I had him. So who're you, jumping in on confidential business, kid?" Nova crossed his arms across his chest securely, slipping into the authoritative tone of Director Fury, spearing his eyes at the olive-skinned girl that hardly seemed to mind his sharp tone. His mouth turned downwards, as her hands swiped up the bag of stolen items from beside Batroc's head.

She jokingly swung the bag with the glee of a child, taunting him with the goods he'd failed to apprehend. "Relax, dude, I just gave you a helping hand, that's all. Don't worry about it," she answered, tossing the bag at the brooding hero, who caught it sloppily, looking to the full bag and back up to - _she was walking away._ "Just forget about this, alright? Do with him what you will, I'm done for the night."

His jaw clenched like stone as she walked away to the parapet of the building, and as he tucked the bag away, he cupped his mouth. "Hey, get back here, kid! J-Just for the record, I didn't need your help!"

Nova could have sworn, her shoulders lifted with constrained laughter as she looked over the mouth of the stone-polished world. "Alright Sparky, whatever you say," she called back, and jumped into the gullet of New York. Nova felt annoyance crawl up his lungs and as he threw Batroc over his shoulder, he cast a glance over his shoulder - she didn't look back up.

* * *

The second time she made an appearance was on another star-studded night, with no criminals or terrified glances as she lay on her back, one leg crossed over the other and her arms under her head, hands clasped. Nova felt a scoff work it's way into the air from his mouth - lounging around in the dark, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

When he coughed, standing over her with hands on his hips - more adult than he'd ever been with someone - he noticed her entire body flinched, eyes snapping open and searching her surroundings with an accuracy that could rival Hawkeye's shooting. When her eyes met his, or rather the white panels of his helmet, she relaxed slightly, but she still curled further in on herself. _Broadcasting an image of trust, yet completely unyielding. Why?_

"What're you doing?" His voice trilled with boredom, but inside, he was more intrigued than ever. She was strange, and unpredictable - popping up in places she shouldn't be, lounging around as if she owned the place - it annoyed him. She tilted her head upwards, her lips coiling upwards at the intrusion of her space. "Don't smile like that - it's dangerous out here, especially at night. Shouldn't you be at home? Aren't your parents worried?"

Her shoulders shrugged, or as much as they could pressed into the gravel on the rooftop. "Probably. Aren't yours?"

"Mine aren't in New York. Seriously - _what_ are you doing?"

Pulling back the annoyance from his voice, trying not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him bristle, she gestured downwards with a jerk of her body, brow lifting delicately above the fabric of the light blue mask. "What does it look like? I'm lying down, free country and all that," she answered, her eyes catching onto him like a hawk as he moved to stand at her side, looking up at the sky above. "Why don't you lie down with me?"

His eyes, perched in the pollution-riddled sky - _New York is nothing like Arizona, Kaelynn would hate it_ \- his head snapped downwards, jaw opening and closing around graveyard words, dying on his tongue. Even if he was known for being the laziest on his team, he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "W-What? No, that's just...just stupid! I'm not gonna lie down on the job."

Her mouth quirks upwards, and a scar by it's corner turns white with the tugged effort. "C'mon, Sparky, you know you want too," then, she tore her gaze from his, eyes finding themselves lost in the sky. "Besides, if you squint, you can kinda see the stars."

It wasn't much, but it prompted Nova to blow out the constricted air in his creaking lungs and drop his weight, lying his head next to hers on the rooftop and staring upwards, eyes narrowing. True to her word, the spark of stars could be seen through the light pollution of the ever-awake city and -

"Are you squinting?"

Nova sighed. _"Yes."_

"Sorry, Sparky."

" _Don't_ call me _Sparky._ Seriously, _why_ is that even a nickname for me?"

A soft sound broke the air and her realized it was her laughter, cracking the silence like the glass of a mirror. It was full-hearted and loud, and he found his own lips tugging upwards gently before settling back into the line as he noticed the veil of constellations behind the smudge of light pollution. _Maybe Kaelynn_ would _like New York. If she squinted all the time._

When her chest stopped heaving with laughter, she turned her head towards his, the dark brown hues piercing his. "So, you said something about a job. Are you a full-time hero or something, 'cause I can't imagine you get paid for that."

A 'hmm' sound rattled in his throat and he turned to her, watching as even though she looked at him and was physically there, her eyes seemed to be a universe away from this New York city rooftop. "I'm not going to tell you that, I don't even _know_ you."

"Then why are you lying here?"

"I...I don't know! I should be down near Queens by now, not babysitting you," he hissed, turning his head away and glaring upwards, turning the heat from it upwards. He noticed how she moved away slightly, angling her body the other way from him. She didn't seem to like being scolded or shouted at.

Her smile diminished, flattening into a line across her face and turning the crescent scar white once again. "Sorry, dude, I just thought you should relax. By all means, go to Queens, besides," she answered, sitting up onto her elbows, staring somewhere that Nova could never quite reach, no matter how far he flew, "you don't even know me, right?"

Vaguely, he wondered if she was manipulating him into the guilt that pooled into his abdomen like hot lead, burning his insides with the feeling. His mouth opened to push an apology between them when -

 _"Nova!"_

Both jumped at the sudden screech from Nova's stomach, where his hands lay on top of each other. Whilst he groaned, Nova spotted how the dark-haired girl scrambled away like a frightened cat, eyes blown wide with shock as she put distance between the two. Beneath the helmet, he raised a brow at her odd behavior before turning to the annoying spider-themed hero on his wrist.

"Nova, where the _heck_ are you? We've been waiting for you at the rendezvous point for like, twenty minutes!" snarled Spiderman, obviously enjoying the chance to chew Nova out for being late. In the background, he could hear White Tiger complaining about the wait. "Seriously, you need to - "

"Calm down, _Webhead_ , don't pop a web, I'm coming," he answered, standing up as he did so and adjusting his watch, casting a look towards the girl as she brushed off excess dirt from her legs, and bent down to retie her boots. "I just had a run-in with some C-list baddies, no harm no foul. I'll be there before you can say _Nova's awesome_."

He cut off the growling spider and sighed, rubbing a hand across his chin as he turned towards the shorter of the two, watching as she quirked a brow at the lie he'd told his teammate. She stood opposite him, hands on her hips as he addressed her. "I gotta - "

"You gotta go. No worries," she answered with a wave of her hand, fingers delving into the crazed curls of her hair and throwing it up into a pony tail, the same soft smile on her mouth but somehow, he knew it seemed fake. "Go meet your friends, I'll see you another time, _Nova_."

She enunciated on his hero name specifically, snickering behind her orange painted fingertips when she turned to walk away as he straightened, noticing that he'd _never learnt her name_. A choked, shocked noise tore from his throat and before she could make her escape down another fire escape, he threw a hand out. "W-Wait, I never learnt your name."

She didn't even turn as she threw a hand up, waving at him as she disappeared. "I'm no-one you need to remember, that's why," she answered, turning to slide down the ladder, and she peered over the first rig of the twisted metal. "Stay safe, Nova!"

When she disappeared down the ladder, he didn't follow. He shrugged his shoulders and bled the same blue power he always had, shooting into the air and down towards Queens.


	2. ii

**Chapter Two**

Alone we can do

so little; together we

can do so much

 _ **Helen Keller**_

* * *

The blast ricocheted, sending a painful ringing across his temple and throwing him back off course, a lump of dusted debris lodged into his abdomen. His shoulders planted themselves into the wall behind him, as the Goblin's maniacal laughter bounced in the air. He felt a hand brush across his shoulders, a voice filtering back into sound, asking him if he could get up. Nova lifted his head, seeing the down-turned lip of Powerman.

".. _va!_ Nova, can you hear me, man? Can you get up?" With a shaking nod, Powerman hooked a hand into his teammates and pulled the shorter up, who wobbled slightly on his feet but nonetheless, stayed rooted like a tree to his spot.

A hand pressed against the eye panels of his helmet, somehow comforting, as he groaned. "Man, when'd he learn that trick? I'm gonna be smelling like pumpkin seeds for weeks."

Powerman constrained a chuckle at his teammate, who shook his head free of pumpkin seeds - literally - and the Goblin's laughter. The power from his helmet encased his body once more, lifting him into the air as Powerman disappeared back into the fray, calling back over his shoulder, "no time to think about it now - just hit him!"

Nova needed no more guidance, throwing himself into the air above the dust and clutter that circled the streets. He could see Spiderman web-slinging citizens to safety, with White Tiger sprinting across the rooftops above him, leaping off and throwing herself towards the gliding Goblin above Powerman and Iron Fist's heads. She roared loudly as her claws swiped downwards at the criminal - the mutated Norman Osborn - but missed as a pumpkin bomb lodged itself into her stomach, throwing her back away from the battle.

He would've dropped down to catch her, had Spiderman not swung down and caught the female vigilante around the waist, curling her protectively into his chest before placing her down. Nova turned back and with a wide grin, threw himself downwards, pooling the energy into his curled fists and firing haphazard shots at the flying beast.

Dodging the pumpkin bombs tossed at him, snickering as Spiderman groaned when one exploded above him, showering him with pumpkin debris, he yelled, "yeah, that's right, ugly! Focus on me," he spun backwards, dipping back down as the Goblin roared in agitation at not being able to hit the flying Nova, "this is pay back for all the water I'm gonna use this week to get that _nasty_ pumpkin smell off of me!"

Unfortunately, another bomb found itself slamming into his shoulder, knocking him off-course and down into the concrete. Pain blossomed across his side, and he grit his teeth as he pushed himself upwards into a standing position.

The others joined him, Iron Fist on his left and Tiger on his right; Spiderman dropped down in front of them, crouching in position before whirling around on his teammate's, throwing his arm out towards the screeching citizens. "Guys, go protect the civilians! I've got this."

Nova could practically feel Ava's growl under her mask as she stepped forwards, leveling a stare at her boyfriend. " _No,_ Spidey, we're a team. We're in this together."

Beside him, Iron Fist nodded as calm as ever. "A problem shared is a problem halved, Spider. Let us help bring him back to SHIELD in one piece."

He watched as Spiderman practically deflated in the gaze of his friends, annoyed that he couldn't bring the Goblin back himself and try to cure him, and Nova felt a worm of pity scrawl itself across his chest. He knew the guilt still ate at the teenager, how he felt completely responsible for letting Norman be exposed to his unstable DNA, but what mattered now was containing him and keeping New York city safe another day.

But, as Spiderman moved to utter orders to his team, the Goblin reared upwards on his glider, out through the veil of dust and dirt, a thick and greedy smile painted across daggered teeth. In his hands, he nonchalantly bounced a larger pumpkin bomb than the rest up and down. "Ah, but children, a problem you cannot find is a problem that cannot be solved," he said, before tossing the pumpkin bomb downwards beneath him, making it explode on the ground below and throw up the charred remains of the New York street.

Dust blinded them and ash clung to their bodies, but they only coughed as the air was stolen from their lungs and crouched downwards. "Everyone, stay alert!"

"Is he gone?"

"I dunno, he just up and bounced," answered Powerman, hands thrown out around him with curled fists, ready to throw a punch if needed. He coughed up dust and fear and spat it back down, ready to fight when suddenly, he felt the air shift around him. Powerman spun on his heel, fists held upwards but finding nothing there except swirling debris. "I think he might actually be gone. Guys, he might - "

 _"Powerman!"_

The shout broke the silenced air like a bullet, cracking it apart at the seems with the horror in Iron Fist's voice. Although Powerman was quick, even for his hulking size, he wasn't quick enough as the Goblin pierced through the veil of dust like an agile bird, quick and far to fast to catch. His hand lifted, a razor sharp object clutched between the large digits and aimed right at him.

Although he knew that the object could hardly even scratch his skin, he flinched in instinct, and threw up his arms when out of nowhere, something dropped in front of him. Something small, but seemed to breathe power all the same as a sudden giant gust of wind was thrown up between Powerman and the Goblin, sending the Goblin flying back on his glider with a sudden screech of surprise, knocking him off onto the ground.

Powerman blinked and pulled down his arms, finding a girl wrapped in blue around two feet shorter than him, arms thrown outwards and heaving air greedily back into her lungs. His jaw slackened slightly, as a blue-masked face turned to look upwards at him, a breathless smile seeming to take up the expanse of her round face. "Sorry, you looked like you were in a bit of a bind."

The dust had cleared from the blast of air, settling back onto the streets, and Nova had hovered above the mess of dirt to try and find the Goblin in a hurried frenzy when Iron Fist had screamed and fear had struck him hard across the face when the Goblin suddenly disappeared in the veil that covered his teammate's. As Nova moved to throw himself downwards to protect his friend, the gust of wind had thrown him back into the air, tumbling over himself and having to forcefully to grasp onto his helmet to make sure he didn't lose it in mid-flight.

Blinking back the wave of dirt that had assaulted him from the sudden intrusion of wind, Nova groaned and turned to look downwards, only to find his entire body slumping in astonishment at the sight. The girl - the vigilante - she'd thrown herself into the path of fire for his friend and had somehow thrown the Goblin back with a force greater than a hurricane. But not only was he surprised, he was _angry_.

Spiderman wasted no time in slinging a web and coating the goblin in it before he could stand, coating another over his mouth when he started to spew profanities at the girl. "Nighty-night, Gobby. I'll take you back home to SHIELD in a minute," muttered the Spider, slinging back round to meet his teammate's as they grouped together around the girl, who seemed to shrink even further under the intense gazes.

However, when Spiderman moved to interrogate the newcomer, he was interrupted by the blazing Nova. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Oh, hey Sparky."

"Seriously why are - how did you even _do_ that - I didn't even know you _had powers!_ "

"Because you never asked!"

"Because you'd never _tell_ me when I did!"

"Well _sorr-ee_ if I wanna keep things secret from you, it's my life!"

"You shouldn't even be here, you could get hurt! You aren't wearing any protective gear anyways!"

"And what, that bucket of yours is protective?"

" _Enough!_ " screeched White Tiger, throwing out an arm and whacking the yelling teenager across the back of the head, sending the boy stumbling away and huffing out an angered breath, glaring the shorter girl down as she did him. He raised a hand and shoved it under the back of his helmet, rubbing the sore spot on the crown of his head that White Tiger had assaulted.

In White Tiger's absence as she fell away, Spiderman stepped forwards and Nova swore he could feel the heat of the boy's glare under the mask, but he only huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest and sending his gaze to the wallcrawler who didn't pay him any mind though, casting his gaze towards the girl clad in blue and - _she looked like she was shaking in fear._ "Look, we're grateful for any help we can get, kid, but we were alright. Powerman, he's got bulletproof skin so he can _really_ take hits. Anyways, aren't you a little young for the hero gig?"

Annoyance flared up in the girl's dark eyes and she threw her hands up to the sky. "Oh for god's - why does everyone think I'm like, twelve!? I'm just _short_ , I'm sixteen years old! I have a damn driver's license here, for god's sake," she hissed, oblivious to how Nova seemed to choke on his breath. _I seriously thought she was twelve..._

Spiderman sobered up from his chuckling from the death glare sent by the shorter girl, and he nodded solemnly, as if he understood her troubles. "Well, sorry. So... _who_ are you?"

The girl hesitated on the answer, her fingers idly spinning the arm guards on her forearms, her top set of teeth chewing into her bottom lip as she debated on answering them. They stood, waiting, when after a long moment, she breathed out, "my name's Tempest."

 _Tempest._ Nova tasted the word on his tongue in the barest whisper, tasting the ash from the fight and his uncertainty about the vigilante female, wondering why she was so hesitant and terrified as he saw the quake of her shoulders, the shiver that her hands seemed to bleed as she shrank away. _Why was she so terrified of other people?_

"How come we've never heard of you?"

Even if her smile was easy, her body was stone. "I keep under the radar, I'm not really very good at making friends anyways," a sidelong glance was sent to Nova, who had unfolded his arms and come to stand by his team, intrigued by the girl and somehow, when her smile reached higher, he knew it was for him. "Anyways, I've got to go now. I'll probably see you guys around."

She was gone before any of them could bid her goodbye, rising into the air and onto the rooftops, sprinting away into the heart of the city and leaving them in the middle of the debris.

The first to speak was Iron Fist. "She seemed nice."

"Hmm," hummed Spiderman, rubbing a hand across his left shoulder blade as he stared after the girl as well, before ripping his gaze away and turning to Nova with a heated glare up his mask that only fueled Nova's own annoyance. "But what I _really_ want to know is why _Nova_ already knew her."

As the spider-themed superhero stalked forwards and Nova's hands curled into fists, White Tiger stopped between the two and placing a clawed hand on her boyfriend's chest, looking at him with warning. "We can deal with that later but first, we need to report this to Fury."

At that, Nova started. "Wait, what? Why?"

White Tiger turned back towards him, as Spiderman wrapped an arm around her waist and aimed a web shooter upwards to swing them back to SHIELD. "Because, Fury needs to know that there's a new vigilante running around, idiot. God..." with that, Spiderman swung them away and across the buildings rooftops, leaving Nova under the stares of Powerman and Iron Fist.

"Nova, bread always falls buttered side down."

"...I am _not_ bread."

"No, he's _toast_ when he gets back to SHIELD."


	3. iii

**Chapter Three**

They that sow the wind,

shall reap the whirlwind

 ** _Unknown_**

* * *

The twilight hour was her fondest hour, when the sky began to dampen into night and the stars could be found just beyond the smear of light that bled from New York city and no people were around. Tempest felt her breath catch as the wind curled around her, lifting her feet from the ground, just a few centimeters, and she let the sensation flood her body. She felt the wind twist and wind under her fingers like velvet fabric, curling around her like an embrace.

Her chest deflated as she let out the breath she was holding and although the feeling of being the air, climbing higher and higher was amazing, nervousness placed itself in her stomach like a rock, hard and unfeeling. With shaking fingers, she placed her hands out in front of her, one over the other with space between them, palms facing each other.

Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt the rush of wind stop around her, becoming still besides her. Tempest closed her eyes and focused the air between her fingers, as well as attempting to keep afloat. After a few moments, the dark-haired girl let her eyes open.

A short, soft gasp slipped between her teeth, as she gazed at the ball of air that swirled in her hands. Albeit the ball of air was small, she stayed afloat, whilst her mind was working on two things. Slowly, as if afraid the air would collapse around her, she moved her hands further apart from each other, closing the fingertips closer together as she did, thinning out the ball of rushing air and molding it into a two pointed object.

Just as she smiled in satisfaction, her body began to tremble and horror struck her hard as the air peeled away like paper between her fingers and dripped away, and she found herself on the ground seconds later. A groan hissed itself between the gaps of her teeth, her fingers massaging the crown of her head where it had smacked hard against the gravel. "Dammit..."

"Well that was just sad."

Quicker than the air she molded, she stood and raised her hands towards the intruder into her space, fear climbing up her throat like ice. _Is it them?_

Nova stood a few feet away from her, the team flanking him as he gave a short, curt wave of his hand. "Tempest," her name still sounded wrong on his tongue, like acid permeating through the syllables, and he coughed around it. He turned back to his team, who gestured him forwards. "We...uh, we need to talk to you."

It didn't feel _right._ It didn't feel right that his team was stood behind him, even though they had only met twice, that they shouldn't be there to encourage him to deliver the message. In some way, he felt protective of his role with the most experience with this newcomer, and he knew that if he were alone, she'd be more willing. He just didn't feel _right_ with them watching his every move around her, like he was _guilty_ of something he never did.

However, Tempest seemed to differ in feelings, and bounced to her feet, playing off the loss of flight and stood relaxed, with a hip popped and the same tweak of her lips into a smile. "Yeah, Sparky? What did you wanna talk about?"

 _Definitely Australian._ Nova opened his mouth to answer her, but was cut off as Spiderman strode forwards, swinging his arms nonchalantly by his side, the joking attitude he sported slipping into his words. "The big bad boss wants to meet you, so if you wouldn't mind coming with us..."

 _Webhead!_ Four jaws collectively dropped at the blunt answer, and Nova turned his gaze towards Tempest. Her dark eyes rounded in astonishment and sudden fear flooded her entire body. Her feet stepped backwards reflexively, and her fists curled. She blanched and her voice turned meek, her chin dipping into her chest like a child. "Are...are you guys from the government?"

Spiderman's head tilted, confused as her demeanor changed. "Y-Yeah, I guess..."

"Are you okay?" inquired Powerman, only putting a foot forward towards her, but the action alone made her jump, made her shoot her head up and spin on her heel like a scared puppy, and sprinting away from the group, skidding wildly across the rooftop to jump off of the edge into the abyss below. "Hey! Wait!"

Alarm tugged at Nova's veins like violin strings at the sudden behavior, and he jumped upwards to shoot after the frightened teenager when the crackle of electricity pierced the air and the rooftop lit up with Spiderman's taser webs. They shot across the rooftop and sunk their teeth into her back, her body lighting up with the energy.

Nova cringed as her pained choked gasps filled the air and after a few moments, she slumped to the ground, unconscious. Fury crackled across his features, and Nova spun round, shoving the webhead hard in the chest. "You _idiot!_ What's _wrong_ with you?"

"Hey, don't get angry at me! _She's_ the one that tried to run!"

"She wouldn't have run if you'd been more gentle - you terrified her!"

As the two boys glared at each other, a breadth's away from each other's face, Nova felt a hand grab him by the scruff of his neck and rip him away, standing beside Powerman who sighed in annoyance. Nova huffed, watching how White Tiger grabbed Spiderman by the arm and tugged him back, creating a large space towards the two fire-breathing boys.

She leveled a glare at him, smacking a hand across his chest in scolding. "He's right, you know. You should've been more gentle with her - she's like a scared cat," she muttered, hands sitting themselves on their hips, taking the role of the level mind in their group. "But, and I hate to admit it, that was a smart move, electrocuting her into unconsciousness. Nova, you never would have caught her before she jumped and now, we can attend to any wounds she may have as well as make sure she's comfortable, so she doesn't run again and it's easier to transport her back to HQ."

Spiderman preened under the girl's praise, dropping an arm around her shoulders and when she wasn't looking, pulled up his mask to blow a raspberry towards Nova, who growled under his breath. Iron Fist joined them once more, with the unconscious girl curled into him. His features, ever calm and placid, scanned over her. "She seems to have some minor bruises and superficial cuts that have scabbed over, but the scorch marks from the electricity will need salve on them to prevent them from scarring. Nova, if you would."

The helmet-clad boy felt his eyes widen when Iron Fist pushed her into his arms and he realized he was the only one that could take her back to SHIELD HQ as Spiderman wrapped an arm around White Tiger, ready to spiral into the air once again. Nova looked down, hitching the girl higher so he wouldn't trap her hair under his arm before wrapping her closer so she wouldn't fall and feeling the familiar power from his helmet. He sunk into the sky, with Tempest in his arms and returned home.

* * *

Something was stinging her back. Something burning and she hissed as the world blurred into focus around her. Her body felt as heavy as a brick, laden down by drugs and her gasping breaths. Tempest felt panic flare across her chest and throat, the need to scream rising up as she did _not like confined spaces_.

"Oh, nice to see you're awake," a voice spoke out over the rising tide of her panic, and she shot up, only to be thrown back down into the hard, metal bed she was lay on, as an invisible dome seemed to shroud her body, only becoming visible when she'd jerked upwards. "Whoa, whoa, don't worry. It's alright, you're safe here, kiddo."

"W-Who are you? Where am I?" A man with dark hair and an angular face, dressed in a white lab coat peered over the edge of the space, a kind smile on his features, but it did nothing to calm the wave of panic. She moved to lift a hand towards her head, where pain had bloomed when she'd smacked her head against the invisible dome, only to find she tugged both of her hands upwards. Looking down, she found her hands handcuffed by a strange type of lock and she felt tears break into the corners of her eyes. "Please, g-get me out of here."

The man gave a curt nod, stepping away out of her eyesight and she watched how the invisible shield seemed to break away, and cautiously, she stuck a hand upwards, and finding it completely safe, jumped to her feet instantly, only to wobble and sink to the ground.

As her knees hit the ground and the world spun on it's toes around her, a hand grasped her shoulder, and a kind voice pushed through the haze of dizziness. "Whoa, calm down. You're going to be a bit dizzy for a while, we probably should have halved the dosage since you're so small but, what can you do? Tempest, I'm Dr. Curt Connors, and you need to understand that you're safe here."

"Where is here?" she murmured, sitting back on her ankles and pressing a hand to her blazing forehead, hearing the rattle of the shackles around her wrist. With a choked voice, she threw out her hands. "And w-what are _these?_ I-I don't want them on."

Dr. Connors sighed and placed a hand across her wrists - the only hand he had to spare actually - and gave the shaking girl an apologetic smile. "Sorry, but you have to keep them on. They're only cancelling out your powers so you don't hurt anyone. Please understand."

She sighed into her hands, shaking her head and muttering against her flushed skin. _Not again, not now, not when I'm so close..._

A bottle of water was pressed against her hands and she clutched it with both hands, generously downing the cool liquid and soothing her throat with the ache of the fire that seemed to burn it from the inside out. The girl curled further in on herself after drinking as much of the bottle as she could, her back pressed to the wall. Dr. Connors sat across from her on the balls of his feet, the one hand he had thrown lazily across his bent knees as he patiently waited for her to calm down.

"Tempest do you know why you're here?"

"...I'm meant to speak to someone, aren't I?"

Dr. Connors nodded, taking the half-full bottle of water when she offered it back and sitting it beside him. "Yes, you are; the Director, to be specific. We've been waiting for you to wake up for a few hours now, and if you're ready..."

But Tempest wasn't watching him, instead her gaze fell around the room and the fear reared it's ugly head once again, butting against her own like a bull on a rampage. Surgical equipment and the smell of antiseptic reminded her of a world she thought she'd left behind and she couldn't stop the tremor in her voice that rattled like an earthquake. "Is...Is this a hospital room?"

"The medical bay to be specific, but I'm not stationed here, I was only checking on you to see if you were awake to meet - "

"I'd like to meet the Director now." The blunt answer made the doctor blink, but nonetheless he gave a nod and stood, offering out his hand to her which she refused, standing on her own legs for a moment before she nodded at him to continue. He strode forwards, gesturing for her to follow him between the row of beds towards the mechanical doors that slid open with a whir, and Tempest felt her panic subside.

But as the panic receded in her chest when she stepped outside the door, she jumped in surprise at the sight of someone waiting outside the door. The boy was tall, wrapped in green and yellow with a full-headed mask around his features, the only feature she could see being his mouth. He stood tall and straight and turned when she exited, a soft smile on his face and she recognized him as one of the vigilante superheroes that was with Nova and that spider-themed hero that had electrocuted her.

"Ah, Iron Fist," Dr. Connors greeted, his smile widening at the sight of the boy, and as she shrank back and behind the kind doctor, he turned and gestured to the boy, "don't worry, Tempest, Iron Fist would never hurt you."

"Namaste, Tempest," greeted the boy, his voice calm and even and his small smile warm as he pressed a fist into his palm and bowed at the waist. She moved from behind the doctor, raising a brow at the blond and she bowed slightly, unsure of how to react. He muffled a chuckle at her polite behavior and straightened. "I will be escorting you along with Dr. Connors to Director Fury, if you don't mind?"

Somehow, the calm atmosphere around this boy lulled her, and she shook her head. "N-No, that's okay."

He smiled at her once more and turned, striding down the hall in front of her, flanking her right side whilst the Doctor remained on her left, leaving the walk towards the Director's office silent, but comfortable as she mulled over why she would be kidnapped and brought to wherever she was. She thought she was being rather calm for a kidnapped person, not kicking and screaming but she also knew, without her powers, she was defenseless around these people so there was no need. If she tried, she'd be caught and put under stricter provisions immediately. Dread washed against her in waves, threatening to drown her under the feeling.

The Director's office doors were large and wide, the same as the medical bay one's except his name was scrawled across them in sharp lettering. She shrank back, not wanting to be subjugated to her scorched past once more, when a calm hand placed itself on her arm, careful and gentle. She jumped under the contact, and looked up towards Iron Fist. "You have nothing to fear, Director Fury won't hurt you. He just wants to talk."

"We'll wait out here for you Tempest," amended the Doctor, nodding to her when she seemed to relax, knowing that allies, albeit in the same line of work as her captors, lay beyond the door for her. Sucking in the air around her, and for once not trying to control it around her, she stepped up towards the doors that slid open and the light bled down onto her.


	4. iv

**Chapter Four**

I say I am

stronger than fear

 _ **Malala Yousafzai**_

* * *

Her dark eyes blinked harshly against the hiss of sunlight, and her head momentarily dipped downwards, her eyes turning to her feet and hand-cuffed wrists.

"Kid, if you're not going to look me in the eye, there really is no point to this."

As the voice shatters the air, Tempest lifts her head and blinks against the glare of the sunlight once more, but slowly gets used to it. In front of her, a floor-to-ceiling window sits behind a long, thick metal desk. Across either wall, left to right, are large screens that flash with life, embedded in the metal clockwork of where she is. Moreover, in the middle of this, a dark-skinned man stands, leaning against the desk with his arms folded and a thin line of a scowl on his face. Across his left eye, a thick black eye patch curled around his bald head.

Tempest straightened herself in the presence of the man - whom she assumed was the Director - and leveled her gaze with his. Pushing off of the desk, he gave a firm nod. "That's better. So, Tempest, do you know why you're here? Do you know who _I_ am?"

"You're going to send me back to them, aren't you?"

Her voice had meant to be an earthquake, ready to shatter the ground she walked on when she spoke but instead, it was a whisper lost on the wind. She'd wanted to be stronger than the fear locked deep in her stomach, but her fear had swallowed her strength instead and the earthquake settled itself in the bend of her shoulders, the curves of her elegant fingers. She stayed rooted to her spot, hoping for her feet to become roots so she'd be as strong as an oak and not shake like a fragile leaf.

The emotionless man peered upwards as he walked around his desk, only a brow arching in vague bewilderment as he stared at a girl held together by thread and shaking limbs. "I don't know what you're going on about, or who 'they' are, but I was actually going to just talk. My name's Nick Fury, I'm the Director of SHIELD."

He doesn't notice, or pretends not to, the sudden sharp intake of breath from Tempest, who dips her head into her chest and bites down into her bottom lip so hard she almost draws blood to swallow the relieved sobs. It's only a moment of weakness and she settles in her own skin, as she always will, and turns to look up at him. "S-SHIELD?"

"SHIELD. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

"I've never...I've never heard of you."

She momentarily saw a quirk of his lips, though she swore that the light was playing tricks on her. "Good, that means we're doing our job. We silently protect the citizens of New York and it's surrounding areas, same for our separate branches," he answers, as his fingertips drift over the documents piled across the large desk. She briefly notices the square of his shoulders, the muscle of his back and finds herself thinking he could crush her with just a twitch of his wrist and reflexively, stumbles backwards. "But that's off topic now, Tempest."

"Then tell me - where am I and _why_ am I here?" her gaze is as hard as stone, her muscles tense and relax, her body is more on-guard than ever when she is in the presence of the man and he doesn't seem to blink an eye. _He's used to being a threat._

"You're aboard the SHIELD Tricarrier, and the reason you're here, Tempest, is because I want to offer you something," Nick Fury bent his shoulders over the long, metal desk, fingers tapping away at a screen embedded into the surface that filled the morbid silence that stretch like elastic between them. She doesn't answer, and he doesn't seem to care as his fingers spread wide across the screen of the technology in the metal body of the desk, and behind him, across the large window, multiple videos are thrown up, spat out in plain view of the two and her eyes round.

On the screen, videos show from different angles the mess that had happened just the day before, as the Goblin had attacked the world of New York and it's vigilante heroes. Moreover, in the center, a large whirlwind had appeared, blowing back Goblin away from the yellow-and-black clad superhero Powerman and stood in front of him, arms thrown behind her and her lips pursed, blowing the whirlwind at Goblin. Different angles showed her from the side, overhead and even from Powerman's point of view - a small mess of dark hair just in the corner of the screen, though it could clearly see the raging whirlwind that had exploded from the small girl.

Her jaw set like stone, and she had hardly noticed when the Director had slunk over to her, only when she felt frozen fingers grasp her wrist. A noise hissed between the gaps of her teeth as she jumped from the contact, like a wounded animal as she tugged at her own wrist. The Director only raised another brow in bewilderment and held up a hand, holding a delicate, slim grey key, showing he meant no harm. He slotted it into the frame of the strange-looking handcuffs, and then _-_

 _Freedom._ Instead of falling to the ground like hand-cuffs, her constrictions dissipated and disappeared around her until only a chip fell into the Director's waiting hands, which he pocketed and turned back to his desk as her fingers massaged the soreness of her wrists. _A hologram, of-freaking-course._

"So, Tempest, what I really want to know is, before we get down to business, is why you interfered with my team's mission and," he spoke, his back standing straight as he glanced over his shoulder at her, from where he looked at the images across the wide expanse of the glass window. "Why you aren't on any of my SHIELD radars or documents. So, why don't you start from the beginning and make this easy?"

"What if I don't want too?"

"You don't have a choice, young lady," he answered, and instead of turning to contact the computer in the desk, his fingers started plucking holographic images off of the screen in front of him, holding up a high-angled one that clearly showed her face and her abilities, "because, as you see, if you don't cooperate I may just have to send you back to wherever _they_ are, unless you don't want that?"

A soft, snort of a growl permeated the air from under Tempest's tongue, and her fists clenched at the sight of the picture, but the terror she always held close to her heart, an unwanted thorn in the curve of her lungs, throbbed against the labyrinth of her ribs and she lurched with the sudden influx of memories. _Anything to escape them._

"Fine," she bit out, her fear masked by the upturn of her top lip, the sharp edge of her eyes as she approached the man wrapped in secrets, as slow as she could. She stopped a meter from his desk, hands locked together at the base of her back. "If you really wanna know, _fine._ When I was younger, I was sick - painfully so. I was too pale, I couldn't digest my food and would end up basically, a skeleton in a bed and this was all before I reached the age of six. My parents in Australia took me to doctors, physicians - anybody they could think of that could possibly get rid of my sickness. Then the day came where the _government_ got involved through the final doctor."

The Director seated himself and pressed his mouth and chin into his clasped hands, listening intently to the girl that bristled at the word government, as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. She swallowed thickly and struggled in a breath and he saw her shoulders tense. "I was taken to a doctor somewhere, far from where I lived, to a base where there was only one doctor and I _seemed_ to be his only patient. Every other week, my parents would take me there and they'd conduct tests, take blood samples - everything that normal doctors do to cure their patients. This went on for two years until, one day, my family didn't come back and I was left with those people. They must have been powerful, because somehow, they managed to cross the country with over fifty lab patients as _cargo_ ," a humorless laugh breaks through her cracking voice as the smell of knock-out gas seems to fill the room around her toes and the technological metal of the SHIELD hellicarrier office molds into a dank, dense cargo room, that she only briefly remembers before the darkness enclosed her, the smell of drugs lingering in her system. The Director continues to listen as she cracks. "Fucking _cargo_. I was transported to America, and as they cured me of the sickness, they discovered something else."

Only now does the Director talk, lowering his hands and sitting straighter, piecing the shattered puzzle pieces together. "Your ability to control air."

She nods her head,a broken smile cracking her face as she remembers how it started - scientists complaining about having a tight chest around her, women dropping to the ground from loss of air and suddenly, the day she coughed and blew a hole through three walls. " _Bingo._ They found a dormant gene in my DNA and cracked it open during the curing of my 'sickness' though, apparently, they'd seen this before so they knew _exactly_ what they were doing," she answered, lifting her free wrists halfheartedly to raise two fingers around the word sickness, before dropping them again like ragged dolls at her hips. "After four years, I learnt things. That apparently, if you checked for my name, I'd have been pronounced dead at the age of eight years old when my parents never came to take me home, that the animal experiments were others that had contracted the same sickness, the same gene, as I had. I'd had enough and I made my escape to the sound of alarms and guard dogs and never looked back," her voice hardened as she realized, after years of hoping that the labs and needles were a nightmare, that the blood they had stolen from her was still rushing through her veins, that she was breaking in front of a man she'd never met before today. She straightened and pulled and tweaked the edges of her cracking armor together again, molding her masquerade ball mask of tranquility back onto her features. "That's why I'm not on your damn SHIELD radars or documents - I apparently don't exist. I'm not even meant to be alive."

The Director stands, staring down at the image in his hands of the girl, who had protected one of his own under his care and had been so terrified she'd visibly shaken in front of him. He sighed deeply and grasped the sides of the holographic image, pushing it together and effectively, smashing the image to pieces, discarding it, and effectively deleting the conjoining images behind him on the screen. A shaking gasp pulled through the closed lips of the dark-haired girl and the smallest smile tweaked her lips upwards.

"Well, you look pretty alive to me," he muttered, walking around the desk and standing in front of the girl, who although had just seen him delete any evidence of her existence, still stepped away in her fear of authority with her head turned downwards. "Tempest, I want to offer you a job."

At this, her head shot up like a bullet, eyes widened. "A-A job?"

"Yes, a job," he answered, crossing his arms as he speared her a gaze. "Here. At SHIELD. I'm running a programme that is only for kids with talents like yours - the ability to become the next wave of heroes this world needs. You met our longest running members yesterday, and possibly before, and I was wondering if you'd join - you have talent; potential and we can bring that out of you."

"W-Why? I can't control my powers, I've been working for years to control them and I still can't do two things with air at the same time," she hissed, shaking her head at the man.

"That may be, but this programme isn't just about harvesting heroes - it's about helping to mold them into their ultimate selves, to help them learn to work with their powers as a tool in their arsenal, not their only weapon," the Director unfolded his arms and held one out towards her, an offering in kindness, "We can _help_ you, Tempest."

Tempest dragged her eyes downwards to Fury's hands, noticing the callouses and the scars and the way they hardly seemed to shake - unlike her. _Weak, weak, weak,_ seemed to fold itself across her body in a hymn, and she found her head shaking, stepping back from the man.

"I'm sorry sir, I...I can't. Those heroes that you talk about, they're out everyday saving people," her hands splayed themselves outwards to him and she readied herself as the air called to her, whispered how much it had missed her in her ears and she felt at ease to be as light as the wind again. "The only reason I even _showed_ myself yesterday was because they looked like they just needed a little time to fix things and I gave that to them and it was stupid because t-they could have found me and I-I can't h-have that. I'd hurt more people than save them, so I'm sorry, but I'll have to pass on that offer."

Fury rolled his lips into a thin line before nodding, not moving an inch as he looked at her. "Very well, but you're welcome when you want to come back and work with us."

Contrary to her down-trodden personality, a bright smile lights up her features and she laughs, genuinely humored by the words. "No I'm not. My name practically _means_ volatile. Now, I've got to get home."

Tempest readied herself in the middle of the room, her knees bending and her eyes looking skywards and although she could feel the embrace of the wind above the aircraft, she only saw the curve of the metal roof. Her smile widened and as she shot into the air above her, she threw her arms over her head, effectively creating a shield of air above her head and bursting through the dome of metal, splintering it apart.

She shot into the air and disappeared from view into the jungle of New York city, leaving behind the Director, straight-backed and an exasperated expression on his face as the metal panels fell from the hole in his ceiling. Almost immediately, men flooded into the room, guns raised at the sudden crash, led by Iron Fist and Coulson, who had taken Dr. Connors place as he'd been needed for a test run of an experiment.

Under his breath, Coulson murmured, "Thank God we weren't in the air," he turned his gaze towards his boss who only walked forwards to part the group of men, trying to exit the room, "sir, what happened?"

"Nothing, just that she broke through the ceiling when there was a perfectly good window behind me."


	5. v

**Chapter Five**

A stepping-stone can be a

stumbling block if we can't

see it until after

we have tripped over it.

 _ **Cullen Hightower**_

* * *

Tempest heaved breath after breath into shipwrecked lungs as she paced the rooftop, shaking her sore wrists loose of memories and stiffness. Her eyes opened and closed repeatedly, blinking back the fear the crawled across her skin.

Then, the olive-skinned girl paused in her pacing, winding her neck in a circle as she shook out the doubt she had of Nick Fury's words and she turned, scraping a delicate foot across the rooftop as she pivoted around to face the long expanse of the rooftop, bending her knees and lowering herself into a ready position. A wary smile touched her lips, and she shot forwards across the roof, into a hand spring instantly.

Focusing her powers, she placed the air around her, beneath her back as she sprung upwards, steadying her wobbling balance and allowing her to land squarely on her toes. Sparing no time to breathe, Tempest bursts forwards again, placing her hand against the rooftop and kicking over her head, kicking her legs in an upside-down round-house, using the air behind her to lock the power of a hurricane into the skin of her heels, pushing them forwards and harder into the body part of her imaginary assailant.

Her right foot landed on the ground, stretched long and elegantly whilst her left leg was bent and close to the ground, supporting her weight on that leg and her hand pressed into the gravel. With a grunt, she swung upwards, her right hand curling into a fist as she twisted her body like a vine, placing the power of a tornado at her elbow as she punched out at an imaginary -

 _Contact._ Her fist made contact with something that closed around her curled fingers like a vice and on instinct, Tempest felt her chest lurch painfully between the throbbing veins in fright at the sensation of touch. Her head shot up, blinking away the heat that stung her eyes and stared up at a person, not a wall.

Familiarity bled across her vision as she surveyed who'd caught her flying fist, finding one of the vigilante heroes she'd come across a few days before. The vigilante was dressed in a body-con white suit, that completely covered her body with black stripes curling across her lithe frame. Small ears pricked upwards at the curve of her head, with a long dark ponytail sprouting from the back. Yellow paneled eyes were hidden beneath a black outline and in the center of her chest was a jade green amulet shaped like a tiger. The vigilante cocked her head to the side, as if curious to what Tempest was doing.

The dark haired girl cracked a screech between her daggered teeth, falling backwards in shock and onto the ground painfully. A hiss of pain slipped from her throat as she landed, vaguely hearing the masked girl mutter something under her breath as she approached her, like cornering a wounded animal.

Trepidation placed itself like iron in the expanse of her guts, snaking around her midsection as she stared up at the girl, her lips quivering as she scrambled backwards, the female vigilante following her, sinking lower to the ground as she did so. "S-Stay back."

But she didn't listen, as White Tiger slowly sank to the floor onto her knees, hands placed towards her in a harmless and open gesture, though she shook the hand that had been punched painfully. In her ear, the barrage of voices seemed to grate on her mind - Nova targeting her coordinates, Spidey threatening to web over to where she was - it was a tumble of meaningless words in the whirlwind of her mind. She placed both hands on the floor in front of her, one over the other, subtly pressing the off switch on her communicator and headset embedded in her mask at her ear.

"Tempest, I-I'm White Tiger, but, I wouldn't know if you remember me."

Contrary to the dark-haired girl's ideas, Tempest nodded, shoulders lowering as recognition scores a mark into her olive skin. Her curled up legs slowly started to lower into the lotus position. "Y-Yeah, I remember you. What...are you doing up here?"

She noticed how the girl seemed to relax slightly once the threat of harm had disappeared from sight, and White Tiger wondered if what Fury had told them had been the truth. He'd obviously tucked some of her secrets away for safe-keeping, but being told that the girl in front of her had never had a childhood, she could easily see why. Even if she didn't trust her instantly, she leaned forwards, legs crossed with the toes touching, leaning her hands on them as she waited for the girl to answer her. Dark eyes were blown wide by exhaustion and interest as she stared at her, reading every flick of her wrist and every tap of a finger. Subsequently, White Tiger practiced the same actions. "Fury lets us patrol the streets sometimes to help protect New York - you know, get the purse snatchers and the thieves that SHIELD doesn't have time for."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Yeah, except when you get punched in the face by some male-superiority C-List bad guy," said White Tiger, lifting a delicate hand to her jaw and giving it a tentative, soothing rub, still feeling the bruise it would leave behind across the base. But something gentle seemed to slip like air between them, something that caused the corners of her lips to twitch upwards like violin strings. Across from her, the once agitated and wary girl was relaxed and laid-back on her hands, head thrown back and laughing to the open air above her. A smile of her own pulled cherry-pink lips apart, revealing a row of teeth, a crooked incisor pushed slightly behind the other. The flaw in her anatomy made her smile - she was as human as the rest of them.

"You gave him a good punch for all woman-kind, right?"

White Tiger snorted. "Heck yeah, he's not getting away with the money _or_ a comment about how I should be in the kitchen. I can't even make cereal."

Her laugh is softer now, like the feather-light caress of the wind, and her smile widens a fraction. Tempest seems to be piled full of innocent wonder and she bleeds it as she blinks against the press of the stars above, squinting gently to see them and murmurs the name of one excitedly under her breath, as she'd never seen it before. She looks back to White Tiger, sighing around the chuckle that bubbles in her throat again. The child in the teenager's body smiles, whilst the teenager bites it back, hoping to keep her ice-cold armor frozen for just a while longer. "Must be nice to make a difference."

"It's a small one."

"Still a difference."

White Tiger finds her own body slumping, finds her shoulders losing their tight hold on her skin and her elbows sagging until they press into the ground behind her. Her head tilts to the side, surveying the girl as she drags her eyes away from her to squint at the stars hidden behind the glare of the city again. "Speaking of different, why were you doing combat skills just now?"

The olive-skinned vigilante pauses, subtly and silently, but it's still a change of the wind in her demeanor. She gathers herself to her feet, stepping away from White Tiger as she does so. A pang of hurt presses against her rib cage at the action, wondering what she said wrong. "O-Oh, that's sorta...sorta because of what your boss said to me, that I shouldn't only have one weapon at my disposal, i.e. my powers."

"If that's so, why'd you refuse Fury's offer?"

White Tiger stands too, following the girl in her steps falling backwards. The heat of running away and escaping the questions, just like always, flares painfully inside her as she continues to prod her for answers. A sigh splinters in her lungs as she throws a hand through her hair, uncurling the knots in her raven hair. "W-Well, that's sort of personal but...something happened, that involves bad people that could potentially really hurt the ones I love if they find me; so I can't risk it. I can't risk them."

But we can help you, it slips off her tongue and crashes into the back of her teeth when a black and white blur lands in front of her, powerful arms placed upwards in front of him with curled fists and Tiger stumbles back into the spider-themed hero's chest known as Spiderman, who tilted his head down at her. Venom stood in front of her, crouched low at the knees.

"Tiger, are you alright? Your communicator's off."

"I-I'm fine, Spidey, don't worry, I was just - " but her words are scratched into oblivion when a yelp breaks the silence, and she only just has time to jump out of harm's way as a ball of blue light and dark hair barrel towards them, splintering apart to reveal the crumpled forms of Tempest and Nova.

Tempest curls in on herself as she groans, pressing a hand to her forehead where a a small gash beads upwards with blood, a bruise already in sight on a reddened cheekbone. Tiger groans behind her and, moving to gather the girl upwards when she's beaten by a helmet-clad latino.

"Oh god, what did I - _shit._ " murmured Nova, as his eyes skimmed the curled form of Tempest as she pulled her hands away coated with blood. Her jaw hardened like stone at the pain, gritting her teeth as she rose herself from the ground. Nova was on his feet and offering her a hand as she looked up, retying her mask again. She sighed gently, a soft smile on her face as she nervously accepted the hand upwards, flinching as she made contact. "Oh god, I'm sorry Temp, didn't see you there, I tripped over a stupid pipe. Are you okay?"

 _Temp?_ She jumped as she felt Nova's prodding fingers brush along the scrape at the start of her hairline, hissing and pulled away. A guilty expression flashed on Nova's features as he saw the pain flash across her dark hues, but she lifted her head once again, cheeks pulling upwards.

"It's cool, Sparky, don't worry - I honestly thought you were a bus."

"Yeah, well, don't stand so close to the edge."

"Don't patronize me."

"...Spidey, who _is_ this?" Agent Venom says, gesturing a hand out towards the girl who jumps at the sound of a new and unfamiliar voice and her eyes widen at the size of the vigilante male, wrapped in black and white and white-paneled eyes, a spider stretching across his broad chest. Thick shoulder pads and a utility belt seemed to be molded into his design and Tempest found herself inching further behind Nova, her fingers grasping at his wrist.

Agent Venom raised a brow, stepping back from the frightened girl as Spiderman stepped forwards gesturing to the girl that Nova pried from behind him. "This is Tempest, someone that Fury wants to recruit for SHIELD academy."

Tempest nods in accordance to his words, straightening the plates of her shoulders. She'd shaken in horror at the size of Powerman - a boy literally built from the power of strength - but hadn't been prepared for another powerhouse to emerge from within New York's concrete vines. Her eyes remained glued on him, on his hands. Waiting for his fingers to slide a daggered tooth from his utility belt and place the knife against her throbbing throat. But his hands never drifted, his eyes never turned away from hers.

"Speaking of SHIELD," said Nova, turning his head to peer down at the dark haired teenager, who glanced from the corner of her eyes before spearing her gaze back at the black-and-white hero. "Fury said you gave up the offer, Temp. Why?"

A soft, almost warning, growl emanated from a rumble in her throat, as she crossed her arms defensively over her chest. "I already explained to White Tiger, personal reasons. I can't control my powers yet, so I'd hurt more than help and there's more things at stake to protect than a city that doesn't even know I exist."

"But that's not what it's about," answers Spiderman, standing taller than ever as a lecture builds in his chest and White Tiger sighs at the sight of her boyfriend. Her head tilts though, a cloud-soft smile pressing over her teeth as he spouts off recited lectures and regurgitated speeches all over again. "What it's about is working to be better, to be the ultimate you. With SHIELD's help, you can be so much more and you can protect what means the most to you even better. You have great power, I've seen it Tempest and it's also a massive responsibility. So you should take it, control it and use it to do the best you can do."

Nobody mentions it, but a sly tilt of his head is sent to White Tiger, who turns to stare off the deep-end of the grey-tinted New York building top, hands on hips but her teeth slip into her bottom lip, chewing on the smile that threatens to split her lips. Tempest gives a shaky sigh, her eyes drifting downwards to the ground as her fingers flex and twist and pick at her nails anxiously.

"But what if my best isn't good enough? What if I hurt people?"

But Spiderman doesn't speak, as Nova pipes up, the wrist she's grasped slipping and fitting large, calloused hands into hers, giving her own bony fingers a gentle squeeze. "Then you try again, and work on it. You won't hurt anyone that doesn't deserve it Tempest - I _promise._ "

Something squeezes her pulsating heart in her chest at the tone of his voice, how he seems so _certain_ about a dark haired girl as light as the clouds. It almost breaks her heart to think she'd ever let him down if she accepted the job, but she sucks in a ragged breath and squeezes his own hand, before pulling it out of his and tucking it behind her back, fingers crossing. "Fine, I'll...try it out, for a week or two. If I can't get the hang of it, you guys leave me alone about it, okay?"

The smile on Nova's features widens and he nods, the power from his helmet already pressing down on him as he lifts just a few inches higher in the air, and Spiderman throws a hand out towards her, a gesture of a handshake. "It's a deal, then," he says, nodding when she tentatively slips her hands in his hold and although she snatches them right back out of it, pride circles his veins. "We should probably take you to your new living quarters then."

"Sweet! New girl," chortles Agent Venom, fist pumping as he jumps towards her, almost like a gleeful child and bends down to her height. Practically immediately, the venom-substance pulls away from his face, the rounded mask moving to show a blond-haired teenager with large blue eyes, hair shaved into a buzz cut with thick, angled brows. His smile is wide, almost a smirk as he holds a hand up to her to give her a high-five, which she flinches at in surprise. "Welcome to the team, babe!"

Nova snorts. " _Babe?_ Seriously?"

Spiderman face palms behind Flash at the way he reveals his identity instantly when he feels thin arms encircle his waist and a head place itself on his shoulder. He ignores the laughter that rings from Nova and the twitch of a smirk on Tempest's lips in exchange for the masked face of his girlfriend, who curls into him. His arm sits lightly across her shoulders, pulling her further into him. "You did good, Pete. You really live up to that motto - _'with great power comes great responsibility.'_ "

Her voice deepens as she re-tells his famous caption, and his chest bounces with a chuckle as he presses his head into the top of her head, feeling the pulled back strands of her dark hair from under her mask move as he gives her a gentle nuzzle. "Well, I do have you to inspire me."

"Wow. As if _that_ wasn't the cheesiest - " White Tiger's cut off by a bird whistle from Nova, whose already grabbing Venom under the arms, the mountain of muscle cursing at the Nova corps soldier.

"He-yo, lovebirds! we gotta get moving or Fury's gonna make us run laps again and I am totally not going through that again because you two decided to swap spit," calls Nova, laughing as both animal-themed heroes growl, Spiderman waving an iron fist at him as he flies off, carrying Flash towards the other edge of Manhattan. Spiderman sighs, murmuring of getting back at the bucket-headed hero and wraps an arm around White Tiger's waist, looking back over his shoulder to Tempest who floated in mid-air.

"Just follow us Temp, we'll get you there faster than a bucket-head," he calls, webbing to a building corner and dropping off the teeth of the gray scale building, plummeting over cars and back into the air in a fluid motion, following the same path as the blue Nova. Tempest feels the thump in her chest and ignores it; she pools air into her throat and smiles as the clouds swallow her whole when she accepts her decision and flies after the vigilante heroes to her new home.


	6. vi

**So a good friend of mine gave me their OC to use in a crossover chapter, and I hope you guys enjoy this chapter with a new face added into it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six**

If you gladly stoop to

the ground don't be

surprised if they

trample over you.

 _ **\- Ethiopian proverb**_

* * *

Her feet made a soft, resounding _klunk_ as she landed inside the yawning metal mouth of the Triskellion, a twisted metal beast on a block of land, just outside of New York City. It blended in with the rushing tide so it was no wonder she'd never seen it on her frequent trips to the docks, to feel the spray of the midnight air that kissed the sea.

She trailed behind the four vigilante heroes, staying close as men and women in SHIELD uniform, noticing out of the corner of her eye, the two spider-themed heroes greeting the workers - who neither gave them a glance or a weird look - and carried on. Her lips plucked upwards at the carefree attitude as the black-clad hero crossed his arms behind his head, completely at home in a spy-wreathed building.

As they turned a corner, a large figure stopped them in their tracks, an eye patch wrapped around his bald head. Nick Fury stood straight backed and stone-faced as he regarded the students, a thick eyebrow perching high. "Aren't you kids meant to be in class?"

White Tiger face-palmed and sunk further behind the red-and-blue clad spider, who gave a nervous chuckle and scratched at the back of his neck, his head averting away from the fire-breathing glare of the Director of SHIELD. "W-Well, you know me, Nicky-boy - Nick. Mr Fury. _Boss man Nick_. Uh, we had to pick up a tardy student." His words fell out of him like a waterfall and he turned to reveal the form of Tempest, whose brows rose under the light blue mask she wore. Nova snickered behind his hand.

Fury's features softened slightly when he saw her. "Nice to see you took my advice."

"I got bullied into it, that's why."

Nova snorts and places an arm around her shoulders, cringing slightly when she jumps under the touch but steers her away from his boss, giving the taller male a respectful nod. He tilts his head towards the hallway, where Spiderman rushes to catch up to White Tiger, whose trilling laugh is the only other sound in the hallway than his whines of annoyance. "C'mon Temp, we've got agility training now."

"Isn't it a bit late?"

"Every waking and non-waking hour counts."

She nods as she moves to follow them down the hallway, Nova shooting upwards to fly above his masked teammate's webbed head, jeering at him. But she only traces his steps by four, when Nick Fury calls out to her. "Tempest?" she tucks her chin back over her shoulder to look at him, and his eyes turn upwards to meet hers. "You're gonna do great things, kid."

He turns his back on her to glide back down the hallway and Tempest does the same, her lips chewing into the scowl that threatens to tug down her features as worry pools in the knotted veins in her fingertips, in the clockwork of bones in her hips. It pools every crevice it can find, filling her from the inside out with dread at his belief.

But she swallows it down and tucks it away for another day when she catches up with the four teenagers, Spiderman throwing out a fist to clip at Nova, who stumbles back into Venom when a pair of large metal doors open wide like a yawn into a large room. The others disappear into it with Tempest following close behind.

The room spreads outwards into a large circle, a long thick window wrapping around one side, showing the crash of the waves against the shoreline the Triskellion was built upon. Thick, grey metal walls hugged the sides of the window and spread out to a window above her, most likely a monitoring room. Strange markings, that looked like worked in cracks into the metal lined the floor, creating shapes and designs that turned her mind dizzy when she tried to connect them all, like constellations in a metal body.

But what terrified her most was the group of people that stood in the middle, chatting and laughing with each other, as if they hadn't even entered the large room. Another Spider themed hero, wrapped in red and gold iron, stood with an arm leaning on a shorter girl's shoulder, a long bushy tail flicking around behind her as her dark eyes blinking upwards, her mouth opening and closing excitedly around her words.

A boy wrapped in a black, pin-stripped cloak with a thick hood seemed to be in deep conversation with a thin, lithe blonde girl wrapped in white, a circle curled around an icy blue eye as they chatted to another boy, that seemed to be more fish than man. Nova walked forwards and slapped a hand to the blond's in a high-five in greeting, passing her by. A long-haired blond boy with his entire upper torso exposed talked to a hulking mass of a humanoid rhino, fingers digging into a sabretooth tiger's blond mane as if it were as normal as ever. She also noticed Powerman and Iron fist among the group.

Seven sets of eyes turned to stare at her, the blond female's brows lifting higher on her porcelain forehead and Powerman's moving lips filling up into a full-fledged smile, tossing her a wave in greeting, nudging Iron Fist. However, Tempest curled in on herself, fingers folding into fists, her legs slowly bending into a defensive position before a lithe form, wrapped in blue and gold, swept an arm around her shoulders once again. She blinked in shock, twitching under the arm as Nova spread an arm out.

"Guys! _Guys!_ This is Tempest, she's a newb to class, and she's gonna be working with us," he called out, and everybody seemed to relax, making her wonder - how many times had they been attacked to put them on the alert instantly, even against a timid, slant-eyed teenaged girl. "So _be nice_ ," threatened the Nova warrior, spearing a glance at the eight foot tall Rhino that huffed and crossed his arms.

A soft sigh worms it's way from a hollow creak in her throat and she looks up towards the smirking Nova, giving his hand on her shoulder a soft pat. "Thanks, Nova. I got a bit freaked there."

She vaguely hears Spiderman murmur _'damn, that's my line,'_ when Nova gives her a sweet smile, dragging his arm off of her shoulders and making his way towards Powerman and Iron Fist, with Tempest in tow, who greeted him with a fist bump when they arrived. The shorter girl, lower than all the boys and some of girls, looked up towards them to find Powerman smiling down at her. "Hey Tempest, I'm Powerman. You gotta remember me right?"

"If I said no, would I have to save you from a giant goblin again?"

Powerman's smile pulls wider with his laugh as she playfully answers him, her entire posture lowering into tranquility as she stares up at him. Now, he's no longer a vigilante behind a pair of black reflectors but a teenager, just like her in exactly the same boat as her. Although she flinches when he moves to readjust his glasses, a reflex long since mechanically guided into her system, nobody comments. "Just might. Well, I wanted to thank you for helping that day. Gobby's a tough one to beat, even with a whole team behind you and impenetrable skin."

Tempest nods her head in acknowledgement, her own lips painting a small, closed-mouth smile that spoke volumes of her settlement into the group of heroes already. Iron Fist looks down towards her, the effervescent tranquil aura settling the nervous jitter than her bones sang. "Tempest, I am glad to see you accepted the Director's proposal."

Nova places a hand over the corner of his mouth, mock-whispering. "Apparently, we bullied her into it."

Tempest's giggle is cut short when a bouncing ball of fur lands in front of her, sharpened nails clutching around her arms and a bright-eyed face in her view. Her breath catches in her throat, feeling trapped as the girl, with a squirrel curled on her mess of short dark hair smiles at her. "Hi! I'm Squirrel Girl, but you can _totally_ call me SG if you want - that's fine by me! Gosh, you're totally gonna have so much fun here with all of us - I wonder what your powers are, do they connect to your name - by the way, this is Paragon, he's a new squirrel I found in Central Park, do you wanna hold him?"

The dark-eyed girl feels her eyes widen as the bright energy of the mutant squirrel girl seems to drown her as a small, fluffy-tailed brown squirrel is pressed to her nose and she stumbled back, her hands closing over her mouth to curl in the scream of fright that bubbled at the base of her throat. However, when the bubbly girl stepped forwards the press the squirrel further into her airspace, a hand shot forwards and pressed the offering further away, causing the squirrel to squeak and skitter back up the girl's arm and over her shoulder.

"SG, quit it. Can't you see she's freaked out?" A foreign voice said from over her shoulder, and the form of the iron clad spider hero walked around her. However, the facial mask that he wore no longer covered his features and it was instead peeled away into the metal crevices of the suit. A boy, probably younger than she was, smiled down at her with deep brown eyes and black, midnight hair tucked into the suit, almost sweaty from being kept inside it all day. His gaze turned down towards Tempest, who stared wide-eyed as another hero revealed his identity.

 _What is with these people and their identities?_ "Welcome to the team, Tempest. I'm Amadeus, or Iron Spider to people that aren't with SHIELD." The boy turns his gaze from hers before she answers, smiling as the bushy-tailed girl plants herself firmly against his iron chest, his arms sliding around her in a brotherly hug as a laugh pops from his lips at her child-like behavior.

Squirrel girl looks up from her perch against the boys chest. "I'm really sorry if I scared you, I was just so excited that there was someone else on the team to work with. I didn't mean too."

Jaw sliding open to answer her, Tempest has no time as a large weight rests itself against her thigh, and she looks down only to let a high-pitched squeak of surprise pull at the air around her. The vicious looking blond haired sabretooth tiger, that had been obediently pressed against the long haired blond boy's leg had pressed against her hip, nuzzling his large head into her curved hip, purring like a house cat on a warm carpet. Her hands shot up, scared to touch the terrifying beast.

His owner, the long-haired blond, sidles over with sharp eyes and large fists, but they're gentle as they pet down the long and soft fur of the predator that lies against her. Behind him, the boy with green skin stands behind him, arms crossed. "This is Zabu; my brother. He won't hurt you, I promise. I am Ka-zar, it is nice to meet you and this is Triton," the boy let's a large hand hang out towards her, which she gently grips as her fingers delve into soft fur, making the cat purr against her. Triton lifts a hand formally, a smile never pulling at his long features.

Her lips open to return the kindness, when the doors to the training room open again and Tempest feels fear curl like a vice in her stomach again, her fingers clutching into Zabu's fur. In front of her, a few meters away, a man wreathed in metal from head-to-toe rolls his shoulder, the scrape of metal against metal filling the room. A large, thick metal helmet with a black visor donned his features, making him completely insusceptible to his physical appearance beneath the armor.

"Who the heck is this?" mutters Powerman to Nova, spearing a glance to the walking tin can that enters to room, his head turned to the giant gauntlets that sit on his wrists. Nova shrugs and turns to where Tempest grips Zabu's fur almost painfully, her knuckles white, but the large cat doesn't seem to even notice as he presses further into her leg.

A sympathetic expression pulls at Nova's features and his arm curls around her, pulling her away from the giant cat - who stumbles slightly, miffed at the loss of contact, and returns to his owner - and lets her shield herself behind him and Powerman, feeling her small hands curl around his wrist. _She's like a scared little girl, afraid of the dark. Almost like Kaelynn._

Spiderman, ever the loudmouth, jumps forwards and waves a hand to signal towards the giant metal man. "Er, _yoo-hoo,_ tin-boy! Yeah, hi. Uh, this is Agility Training with Captain America, not how to dress _eau de tin can_."

"You just said 'water of tin can' in French."

"...Ava, why do you do this to me? I thought you loved me."

A sudden creak of metal, crunching into the clockwork of the ship filled the room. Everyone jumped, a girlish squeak eliciting from Spiderman as he curled around his white-wreathed girlfriend in fright. Across the room, the man had thrown his fist back into the wall, crushing the structure slightly and gaining everyone's attention. "Alright, now that's enough," the man answered, his voice a low growl as he spoke, "I know _exactly_ what this class is, Spiderman, because I'm the one teaching it. Cap couldn't make it today, so I'm his substitute."

Spiderman sighed in defeat, uncurling himself from White Tiger - who hadn't batted an eyelid or moved her crossed arms to disentangle herself - and stood on his own two feet, eyes averted to the ground. The chatter of the class died down, and the man crossed his arms, the screech of the metal grating on their ears and making them cringe, before giving a satisfied nod. "That's better. Now - line up!"

The teenagers scrambled into a line in front of the man, Tempest situating herself beside Nova and Iron Fist, who gave her a calm pat on the back as her fingers twitched and twiddled on her stomach, her bottom lip being chewed on in nervousness. She'd only contemplated on learning about how to control her powers and learning to do it physically - but by herself. Never with others around her.

As tempest's thoughts unraveled like yarn, the man wandered down the line, eyes scanning each teenager that stood to attention like a soldier in front of him. "Good. My name's Predator, I'm a Mercenary hired by SHIELD, and I'm gonna be training you kids today," he answered, standing before them as straight as a board, never being able to see his facial features. "Now then, what I think we - "

"Excuse me?" Tempest rose a hand timidly, and her eyes widened when Predator's head sharply turned to her, almost feeling the scowl pool under his features. "I-I'm kinda new here, like today new, and I'm not exactly a fighter."

"No time like the present," grinds out Predator, almost disgusted by the meekness of the girl that stands about a head shorter than him. He doesn't acknowledge how Iron Fist shifts to partly shield the girl, his fist setting aflame as he watches his teacher before him.

"I'm not the most stable in my powers as well," she begs, her fingers fiddling together like a nervous twitch. Her eyes dart around her, aware of the speared glances sent towards her, and her lungs start to close up, and her voice almost turns hoarse as the room closes in on her. She feels the familiar hot burn in her fingertips, the spread of fire across the soles of her feet. Even acknowledgment of her weakness turns her breathing shallow.

Predator tilts his head, and something flits across the screen of his visor, only slightly visible to those on the other side of his visor. His HUD scanned the small girl, though she never showed up on his visor and he sighed, flicking a wrist to a space underneath the monitoring room, with a jutted out section to sit on. "Fine. Go sit over there and jump in when you're ready."

With a relieved sigh and the softest 'thank you' possible floating on the edge of her lips, Tempest scurried to area and dropped herself like a bag of potatoes on the seat, giggling when she saw Spiderman inch over to where she was, murmuring how he was new too only to be forcefully ripped back into the group by Rhino.

Her legs crossed in front of her, she listened intently as Predator continued to talk. "Alright, so welcome to Agility Training. The time is eleven fifteen pm and I bet you're all tired," murmurs of agreement followed, Nova creating a dramatic display of a yawn that made Tempest snicker. "Well, get ready to be _exhausted._ "

As soon as the words were uttered into the room, Predator pressed a hand against his wrist and the shriek of scraping metal filled the room. The strange markings that Tempest had seen before, tapped into the floors, seemed to shift and shudder, ripping apart like a flesh wound. Columns shot into the air, missing everybody but Predator, who stood high on one foot with his arms crossed, staring down at his students. "If you knock me off these columns, you win. If you don't, we keep at this until you do. _All night._ "

Some of the students practically deflate, whilst others leap into action - White Tiger, Iron Fist, Squirrel Girl and Iron Spider - crawling up the metal columns like they were born in trees. She watches with interest as the teenaged heroes shoot into the air, but narrowly miss predator as he glides across the pencil thin columns to land on a rounded column, big enough for two people to stand upon. He spins on his heels, the glint of his gauntlets shredding against the ground.

The first to attack is Iron Fist, his hand glowing wildly as he throws it downwards, which Predator swiftly dodges, sending the fist into the metal flooring, rutting the metal into haphazard pieces of torn iron. However, neither skip a beat as Iron fist flattens his hand and rears upwards, spinning on his hand and kicking a leg out forcefully, hitting against a metal arm guard that only rang with a shaking velocity. Predator hit back out, two fists to the abdomen and then a knee to the chest, sending Iron Fist sprawled on his back and groaning, slipping off the side onto the metal with a loud _thud_.

Predator had little time to breathe when white-clothed legs wrapped around his middle from behind and Predator's body arches back over his head, slamming painfully into the column floor, pausing to look up as White Tiger raced towards him, claws outstretched. Predator stood quickly, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around so she stood with her back to him. His own hand, wrapped around her wrist, crackled with life. "Sorry kitty cat, but I'm gonna have to de-claw you."

White Tiger shrieked as electricity sped through her body, her back arching with pain and slumping when it disappeared. Predator threw her bonelessly off of the column, not pausing to give her a second glance as he readied himself against another opponent, his armor heaving as he sucked in the air greedily.

"Hey! Don't flirt with my girlfriend," cried a voice, and Spiderman flipped downwards off of the ceiling, hanging onto a web and wrapping Predator in multiple ones, keeping him rooted to his spot. "And don't tase her too - that's just _rude!_ " Spiderman jerks the webs towards him, sending Predator to the ground again and runs to kick him off.

However, as Spiderman races forwards, predator spins his body and swipes Spiderman's legs, sending him crashing to the floor along with him and he throws a fist downwards as he stands, missing the Spider's head by an inch as he rolls and stands. The two exchange punches before Predator clips him in the jaw and the spider tumbles down the side of the column like a doll. He chuckles when he speaks, "you're good but you lack discipline and focus - learn your opponent's weaknesses before you punch them, _Spider._ "

Nova rears into the air, with Powerman and Dagger beneath him and sends wave after wave of energy blasts towards the metal-covered man, who throws his arms up in an 'X' formation to shield himself against their attacks. His arms spread wide, throwing them out and he readies his gauntlets again, ready to strike downwards into Powerman and Tempest is so intrigued she almost misses it.

Hesitation. Predator pauses and tilts his head, as if listening to something no one else can hear and the softest nod can be seen with the tilt of the headset. Predator darts forwards, looking to punch into Dagger's chest like a bulldozer, but he side-steps her, leaving the team puzzled and shocked when he reaches the edge of the column and jumps.

His hands grasp onto the skinnier metal pole, gauntlet spikes digging in and creating a torn, ripped open metal jagged line down the pole. Predator jumps from pole to pole like a monkey hanging onto amazonian twisted vines and then terror stabs Tempest hard in the chest.

 _He's going for_ her.

It's a split second where her scream is muffled as she dodges, when Predator's fist lands where her head had been. The metal splinters and breaks, debris falling from the metal wall and her breath heaves with horror when he tilts his head towards her. He rips his fist from the wall and she scrambles upwards, latching onto a pole and shimmying upwards, steadying herself albeit wobbly on the pole. Predator, however, lands heavily on the metal pole on one foot, throwing out his gauntlets as he almost challenges her, a pole away from her.

"C'mon kid, I don't wanna hurt you. Just fight me," he goads, head tilting in mock-innocence as he shot a taser out towards her, which she dodged, although she fell and clutched to the pole for dear life. She crawled back up, and when he shot at her again, the fear that swallowed her heart ignited the burn in her toes and she lifted into the air, back-flipping and landing on the larger column. Predator joined her, readying himself in a defensive stance.

Predator almost growled as he shoved a fist towards her. "Come on and _fight,_ you little wind thief! Stop running!"

 _Calm down, breathe, calm your heartbeat. Just breathe, just breathe._

"Show me what you can do! Freaking hit me," yelled Predator, throwing another punch which barely clipped her hip. He ignored the webbing that attached itself to his armor, Spiderman pulling at it on the other end to pull him away from the frightened teenager; he ignored the daggers of light that had embedded themselves in the joints at the back of his knees. He was just following orders.

 _Just calm your mind, just breathe._

"Fight me!"

"I don't want too!" Tempest's screech turned the world silent as her hands shot out, open palmed and raised like a prayer to the sky when something terrifying happened. A cyclone burst forth from scarred fingers, barreling forwards and into the chest of Predator, who flew back into the wall just beneath the monitoring room. Tempest heaved breath after breath into her lungs, repeating her mantra like it collected around her neck in beads, rattling it off in her unraveling mind.

On the other side of the room, Predator groaned, pulling his head from the wall and scattering debris when the columns creaked and lowering, settling back into their places on the flat floor, and the dents and cracks in the metal walls smoothed out, pushing Predator from being encased in it. He landed on the ground and stood up, dusting his armor off.

Tempest, however, fell to the ground on her knees, murmuring against her chest as she did so, when a different type of fire lit up inside her, in her growling abdomen. Exhaustion leaked from every pore in her skin, but angry returned to her with a new vigor as she pulled herself up onto shaking toes and stalked forwards.

The metal-clad man, completely oblivious to the anger that spilled from the girl, crossed his arms and nodded in appreciation. "Well done kid, you've got some power in there after all, in those tiny knuckles of yours. You shouldn't - " _Crack._

Predator's chin shoots upwards, showing the barest bit of skin and pain blooms in his jaw. He's shoved backwards harshly against the wall and looks down, to find fire-breathing brown eyes glaring at him. "You _idiot!_ What the hell did you think you were doing, pulling a stunt like that? You scared the fucking hell out of me!" Tempest's voice cracks like ice against the wind, and Powerman cringes at the sound across the room. "Don't you realize what you could've _done?_ I have no control over my powers - what you just did could result in me killing everyone!"

The world turns silent, balancing on a razor's edge as Predator, now backed into the wall, seems suddenly confused by the girl - he hadn't expected to find a dragon lurking underneath olive skin, to find the fire it's so well known for still sit on her tongue. "I was only following orders."

She seems to falter at the words and her eyes look upwards, the the paneled room above her that's watched and recorded and seen everything that has occurred - has tested them, _her,_ against their limits. A growl breaks between flawed teeth. " _Nick Fury..._ "

The short girl murmurs something in the base of her throat and storms out the room, leaving the airspace tight for everyone to breathe. At the other end of the room, Spiderman swings his arms awkwardly, looking at the jaw-dropped expressions of his classmates. "Well, it's safe to say that took everyone's breath away."


	7. vii

**Chapter Seven**

A really strong woman

accepts the war she went through

and is ennobled by her scars.

 _ **\- Carly Simon**_

* * *

Although the hours were small, so was she and that was okay as she breathed a sigh, as the wind ruffled her hair with velvet fingers, and wrapped her in an embrace no one else could, ceasing the boil of worry that spit fire into her throat. Her legs hung like frail branches off of the lip of the Triskellion building, the rounded roof spreading into the sea that crashed against the block of land it stood on.

Her legs pulled up, and pressed as close to her chest as they could, arms winding under the knees and her head pressing to the bent joints. A sigh, soft and broken, pulled at the air around her and drew it in as she mended her unraveled mind from the memories that battered every wall she'd built.

She was pulled out from cementing her mind when the whir of a door behind her opening could be heard, and she jumped, steadying herself against her hand. A brow rose beneath the blue mask as the large and powerful form of Powerman sped up to her across the wide surface of the Triskellion. He jogs towards her, slowing as he reaches her and cautiously sits himself beside the girl.

She doesn't acknowledge his presence when she turns around and decides to stare outwards, where the air kisses the sea and New York is a world and an arm's length away. Her head presses deeper in her knees, crumpling the mask she wears.

"I understand a bit, you know," his voice is softer than the wind that circles her, but it still twitches to life and prompts her head to lift from her knees, still staring ahead but interested. Powerman swipes a hand down his face, mindful of his sunglasses. "That's...probably not what you want to hear, but I do, to an extent."

Tempest groaned, a hand digging into the unruly locks of dark hair that spilled down her back, smoothing out the knots and creases in her anatomy, scrubbing out the flaws she'd found embedded deep inside her - even if it was only in a strand of hair.

The dark-skinned boy takes it in stride. "What I'm saying, is that I know what it's like to be scared of the power you have. Scared you'll use too much and hurt someone," both flinch and neither says a word about it, "or that you'll use too little and it won't be enough to save them. I _know_ about that."

Her legs unfold and slowly she does too, her legs hanging over the side as her mind slowly winds together again, tucking stray and ravished strands back into place. Her mouth quivers when she speaks. "I don't know what to say, it's just...it _terrified_ me, and when something like that happens, I hurt someone. I knew this was a bad idea to begin with and I shouldn't - "

"Tempest, don't," sighs Powerman, twisting his body to face his upper half towards her and his lower towards the sea and she knows that New York means as much to him as anyone else does on this ship - he'll never fully turn away from it. His loyalty is strong and his determination is even stronger - and it's set on her. "You didn't even make a mistake, to be honest. You knocked Predator off the poles in basically, one hit. That must have been a lot of power and you controlled that enough so that he only dented the wall. He didn't even shake a ceiling tile."

Her smile is watery, but he'll take water over dust any day. His cheeks pull up at the sight and he readjusts his glasses, when he pauses. Slowly, he removes them.

Tempest's own eyes widen, as the boy larger than his strength smiles to his _dark brown eyes,_ with his high cheekbones and the softest of a beauty spot that mixes with the night of his skin at the corner of his left eye. Her mouth forms an 'O' in surprise, and in her distraction, she doesn't realize he's laid a hand on her cheek, his large hand covering the top of her cheek and a portion of her neck as he brushes a few strands of hair away.

"Tempest, you're as human as the rest of us, and human's aren't perfect," he answers, thick eyebrows moving to a soft tilt downwards, showing his understanding in merely the frame of his face. He takes his hand off of her shoulder and sits it back on the rooftop, fiddling with the sunglasses in his hands. "To be perfect, you have to not exist at all and you're existing. You're allowed to exist."

"I know what I went through - according to the world, i don't even exist."

"But you do, and you're allowed to exist. Even if only a few people know."

She doesn't know why it hits home, why it feels like a piece of her tattered felt heart has been sewn back on, making it just that little bit bigger and fuller that gives her to courage to sweep forwards and wrap her small arms around Powerman's waist, her small body fitting against his like a little girl's, her head pressing into his chest. He stumbles slightly, and has no time to pull her into him when she pulls herself back. The smile she wears sews itself onto her lips with such careful stitching, he wonders if it's permanent.

"Thanks, Powerman," she murmurs and his pride swells, not for the fact she had thanked him but that she had overcome something that would seem like a molehill to others, but was a mountain to her. She'd _touched_ him, hugged him of her own accord and hadn't flinched, even if it was for the barest of moments. So his pride swells in his chest, and only then does he remember something that was pressed into his back pocket.

"No problem, here," he says, and presses a light blue wrist communicator into her hands, the screen a shiny black and as she ties it around her wrist, it fades into the same shade of her blue arm guard. "Fury said that when we find you, to give it to you so he can track where you are next time. You know, for 'safety' as he says," answers the teenager, putting visible air quotes around the word 'safety' prompting Tempest to giggle, sniffing as she wipes the tears from her eyes.

"Again, thanks."

" _Again,_ no problem. By the way, call me Luke but cool it with the secret ID, some people don't have special clearance," he warns as he slips on the sunglasses again, smiling when she nods at him, pressing the butt of her hand against her eye to capture a stray tear. The make their way across the rooftop and through the mechanical doors. The lights in the hallway flicker and Powerman turns a corner where he waves his wrist backwards over a black square next to a mechanical door, sliding it open and revealing a room full of bunk beds pressed into the walls.

A few lights are on next to a few, and only a few heads turn to look at the two entering the room, only to press back into the pillow, a soft snore eliciting from Rhino's bunk, where he hangs over the edge, arms flailed. Powerman glides up to a spare bunk, with the only exception of Squirrel girl perched on the top bunk, curled up into a ball and hugging a grey-furred squirrel to her chest, sniffling gently in her sleep. He pats the bottom bunk invitingly. "This is yours, sleep well, Temp."

"Will do."

* * *

It's far too early in the morning for anyone to wake up, and it's around four am when Tempest blinks her eyes open wearily and swears under her breath. Her mind races and she slowly lifts herself from her cocoon of blankets. Rolling out of the bunk that Powerman had given her, she landed with a soft bump in the night, and scurried out through the door to the open hallway.

But she hadn't looked around to watch for prying eyes, which came from under a spying Nova helmet, his phone light switching off as she disappeared through the doors. The green-eyed teenager waits before throwing on the Nova helmet and dropping to the ground, standing swiftly and jogging out the door.

Curiosity peels at his skin when he see's her dart around a corner, towards the roof once again where Powerman had found her. He grits his teeth on a broken mutter of a swear, realizing she's leaving. His feet slide and slip against the floor as he rushes to catch up to her, only reaching her when she tips her body off of the edge of the roof, falling like a weight before rocketing into the sky once again.

Nova sets his jaw and presses into the night air, with the sunlight from an early morning streaming across the water that seems to crash and screech as it ripples. "You're not getting away that easy, Temp."

His threat flutters on the wind behind him as he follows behind, keeping a steady distance so the wind-rattled girl doesn't see the lightning blue streak across the night sky. She's quick and seems to rustle only a few bricks, like a sharp intake of breath as she navigates her way around the concrete world. Her body, seeming only a twist of wind in the clouds, dips and dives and swerves crazily, and her laugh echoes of the bricks when she drops to a rooftop.

Nova lands a few roofs behind her, tilting his head as she stretches, throwing her arms out either side of her and pulling herself to her balancing toes, before she shoots off, rushing through the buildings like a shadow. She drips like light, escaping the glare of windows and prying eyes as she dances on the bricks of the world that never knew she was living inside it's cemented belly.

Finally, after an eternity, the dark-haired girl jumps a gap between the buildings, a laugh fitting itself comfortably in her chest and she lands squarely on a shrieking fire escape that practically protests against the smallest of weights. Her fingers, bony and almost hardly there, shaking in the cold, fit under the smallest of gaps in the window, and wrench it open with a soft scrape of wood against concrete. It presses itself to the roof of the window's mouth, allowing a dark hole into the apartment to appear, which she slips into.

The Nova warrior growls deep in his throat and steps back a few feet after a couple of moments, lowering his body to ready himself to run and jump, getting a head start when he shoots forwards, tearing up gravel and concrete as he battles towards the edge of the rooftop. The power from his helmet pulled him into it's familiar embrace and - his foot twigs on something and horror presses hard on his chest.

His mouth widens in a screech as he trips over the parapet that runs around the top of the building's edge, his body taking flight without the helping hand of his helmet and he flails over the gap between the two buildings. He narrowly clips the iron-wrought bars of the fire escape and plunges through the open window.

He vaguely hears the scream that accompanies the sound of clutter and objects falling into the ground when he slams against a wall, dropping down only to fall on a low mattress. Nova presses a hand up the back of his helmet, rubbing against the pain that blossoms like a thorn at the crown of his head and feels a bruise already forming around his spine.

When he blinks away the dust and embarrassment, he winces when he see's Tempest across the room, curled up and staring wildly at him, like a cornered animal. He hadn't meant to scare her and he notices something peeling away, like a see-through dome around her body - small and powerful - but doesn't regard it as important. He hadn't meant to scare her and he moves to apologize when her face turns to stone, the muscles beneath her skin cementing into brick as fury files it's sharp teeth against her cheekbones.

"What in the hell did you think you were doing!? You scared me half to death, Nova!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think I'd trip!"

"Well next time, _do!_ Did you freaking follow me, what are you even _doing_ here?"

His jaw sets like rock and he raises a pointed finger at her, wagging it like a stick. "I freaking _knew_ it, I knew you'd chicken out the moment something went bad! Why'd you leave, Temp? Seriously, we're trying to help and you just won't let us!"

He stamps out the guilt that sets his stomach aflame when hurt floods her dark eyes, and she stumbles back. She doesn't answer anything, but holds up a bag - filled to the brim with clothing and necessities - and watches as Nova practically deflates, accusations and anger dripping from his body. His mouth presses into a thin line and he watches as ruin places itself on her shoulders.

"I thought you'd at least trust me to give this a try," she snarls, swinging the bag of clothes over a wounded shoulder, baring a bruise he'd never seen, and she moved to sweep past him like dust - never seen and never wanted. Her skin bristles at his touch, her shoulders curl in at the feeling and fear climbs up the ladder of her esophagus at the softest feeling of fingers and she snatches her own back, tucking them into her chest.

"Tempest," broken words lie on his tongue as he watches her peer over her shoulder, spearing him with a glance that bleeds stars under his skin. "I-I'm sorry for scaring you. I just...I didn't want you to give up."

Words fracture in her throat and her eyes slide shut, sucking in cheap air and watered-down clouds as she does so and opens them again, the same smile she always wears twisting on her lips, the small scar at the corner of her mouth turning as white as the corners of her eyes. "It's okay, don't worry. Let's just get back to SHIELD."

Her leg is halfway out the window when she hears it. "No. Stay. If you don't mind, I just wanna know some things," trepidation suckles against her bones and Nova drops his body on the mattress pressed to the far wall, stretching his legs out and sitting bird-bone wrists against his knees. Tempest averts her eyes to the ground, where the wooden floor splinters apart like a wound and her feet seem small in comparison to the drip of the morning sky. Slowly, she lowers the window and sits on the ledge, clutching the bag to her chest.

"What...what do you wanna know?"

"You don't have to answer if you don't want too," he coos, gentle as possible as the morning light that flicks across rooftops and around concrete teeth illuminates her, wraps around her body like velvet, he can see the fragility in her ribs, the exhaustion in the bounce of knees and the fear in the slope of her neck. He's gentle with something as breakable as glass when he talks. "But, why are...why are you so scared, of being terrified? I know you can't control your powers, but it's something more."

Her paper-thin feet rise and lean on the jutted out tooth of the window sill and her dark hair slips against the dusted glass of the window, her eyes turning away to glance over the room. It's dark, with only a lamp and the mattress that Nova reclines on. The building she lives in is abandoned, forgotten by it's time and only a few people living in it's brick-laid skin. But it smells like home, no matter where she is.

"When I was a little girl, I was very sick," she recounts her tale over, tearing apart the threads that stitch and tuck her skin together, spreading her bones for the world to see and she slowly, gently, places everything she is at Nova's feet. The boy listens, intently and kindly, offering a tilt of his head in places like the weight of her life is pressed against his throat. When she finishes, her voice cracking on her words, he's as soft as the moonlight that pulls at his fingers.

She doesn't see it instantly, but with her drawn-up knees disguising her eyes, it's understandable that she's surprised when arms encircle her. When he presses her head into his chest and her knees against his stomach and his chin lays across the mess of curls on her head. Dark eyes stare at a three-pointed gold triangle down his torso and it takes her entire willpower not to choke on her sobs as she swallows down memories. Her fingers, curled deathly into the bag she'd collected, switch for the clothing of his suit, a death-grip on a living boy.

Something cold presses against her arm, and her eyes cast down to the bucket of a helmet, slipped from the head of a boy who'd wrapped her in kindness and she pulls back, finally seeing the softness he breathes. Forest green eyes blink at her under raven, gelled locks, falling past dark tanned skin and the smile on his face - twitching a crooked nose from a fight long gone - is sweet as he pushes the hair from her face. It disappears again when remorse plays a tune on the leaves that fold around his pupils. "I'm so sorry, Tempest."

Her lips twitch with the genuine trills of his words, and she shakes her head. Her fingers, releasing the white-knuckled hold she has on him, scratch at her temple under her mask. "It's fine, really. It happened a long time ago, and I'm not letting it happen again. I've got the wind on my side this time."

He snorts at her words and steps back, twirling the helmet on his fist before pressing it back over his eyes and she hums with the secret of his identity that nestles itself deeper in her chest, locked away. It's a sign of trust, in juxtaposition to his accusation from earlier and she grins. She pulls herself down from the ledge, still a head shorter than him and nudges him out of the way to open the window.

"Yeah, and you've got an entire team on your side," he corrects, hands folding behind his head nonchalantly, but the feather-soft smile still curls on his lips.

Her eyes roll, and she mirrors the pull of his cheeks upwards. "Yeah, that too," she slings the bag over her shoulder and presses a leg out the window, turning to look back at him. "We should probably get back home."

She averts her midnight eyes when his smile widens further at the word 'home' and she fully pulls herself outside, into the morning air.

As Nova joins her, hovering slightly, he murmurs his words to her, staring out over the morning. _White Tiger should be nudging Spiderman awake now, and Rhino should be hanging off of the third bunk on the right._ "By the way, you can call me Sam."

"Okay, _Sam._ "

"Also, don't tell anyone I hugged you. I've got a rep to maintain."

She snorts loudly, hovering next to him. "Of _course_ you do."


	8. viii

**Chapter Eight**

Never insult

anyone by accident.

 _ **\- Robert A. Heinlein**_

* * *

Hours bled into days, and days dripped into a week and through those aching days and hours, Tempest had folded herself into the routine that shrouded the Triskellion. Her days revolved around classes and agility and battle strategies, how to better herself and how to control the whirlwinds that float in the crevices of her joints. She'd find concentration and focus in the smallest of corners and pocketed it for her classes and the time she spent on her own.

On a particular day, when the classes were cut short because a rampaging Villain trio had smashed their way into New York with promises of a fight, a select few of the team had been drawn up and sent out to apprehend them. The others fell away to their own devices, tired from the classes they'd already had and Tempest could hear Powerman muttering something of a movie, slinging an arm around Dagger's shoulders in a friendly way.

Tempest almost fell apart with relief - _finally_ , a day to herself that didn't revolve around trying to knock Agent Venom hard enough into a steel wall. She stretched lazily, with all the yawn of a house-cat in her wiggling fingers and retreated to the dorm room. Her eyes were closed like curtains before her body had sagged against the bed covers, and sleep enveloped her.

She awoke, more refreshed than before and clicked her bones gently back into places, huffing a sigh as she read the time, determining that her bored nature would be cured with a solo training session. She shuffled frozen toes from beneath the bundle of bed covers and shrugged on her mask again, bouncing down the twisted labyrinth of the Triskellion.

The room yawned open upon her arrival, inviting it into it's wide belly and the darkness it expelled. A brow rose, and using one of the tricks and privilege's that SHIELD had bestowed on her, she leaned back out of the door and swung her fist like a pendulum across the recognition pad, that read the DNA link on her communicator and the lights flickered to life and - _that was a claw_.

The fear was hard and fast in her throat, as electricity spilled from ragged knives folded into a white glove, as the yellow eyes of the predator girl - _it's white tiger, it has to be, she'd never hurt me_ \- stared her down, glowing in a different way than she was used too, a sickly green. Her head reared back as the claws swiped at her - _she's a friend, I'm not in danger_ \- close to her nose and she felt a horrible, dreadful feeling curl up and burst in her chest.

Suddenly, White Tiger was thrown across the room, a choked scream dying on her wolfish tongue and the electricity fizzled out on her claws, which receded back into the tuck and knit of the SHIELD sanctioned fabric. She slammed against the wall like a thrown doll, her long limbs snapping out and she fell bonelessly to the ground. Her body instantly slumped and consternation clawed her veins to ribbons.

Her body stumbled forwards, terrified of her own hands that shook like leaves in the wind and she'd only moved twice when a blue and red blur fell down before the slumped form of White Tiger and his eyes turned from the sickly green to the normal white panels. His hands flurried around the girl in a frenzy, instantly pulling off her mask and pressing a clothed ear to her chest.

Though he seemed to lower his shoulders that had jerked upwards like blades, he didn't relax fully. Tempest vaguely heard the doors shift open behind her, a stampede of a team rattling the ground when the spider-themed hero whirled upwards onto his feet, fists curled and both her hands shot over her mouth to stop the scream that embedded itself like poison behind her teeth. " _What did you do?_ "

His words curl with ice, and she pulls her own with the force of an army in her vocal chords. "I - I didn't...I wouldn't mean too, I just d-didn't - "

" _What did you do to her, Tempest!?_ " His fists shake and Tempest flinches violently when he throws his hands up, clawing into the hair that sits beneath the mask and she can practically see the snarl of teeth that he sports under his mask. _I just attacked his girlfriend, I'd be furious too._ " _Tell me,_ what did you do to Ava!?"

"I-I didn't - I'm _sorry!_ I didn't mean too, I would never - "

"But you _did!_ You hurt her, with those freaking wind powers of yours! Don't go near her again, ever."

"Please, I would never - "

The tears collect in her eyes, and her quivering hands, hands that have handled hurricanes and tornadoes, fit over her nose and mouth and she stumbles back when he slams a foot down towards her, marching her into a corner. "Stop making excuses, don't go near her! Just go _away!_ "

Her breathing escalates and stumbles and falls in her lungs, that seemed to have been splintered to smithereens, jagged pieces shooting into every muscle and tendon, making her movements robotic as she backs away like an injured animal. She jumps so violently when Rhino, the most massive and aggressive of the group, lays a hand on her shoulder, spearing her with a mildly worried glance but the sight of another strong-arm boy sends her skittering away, dashing blindly out of the room and into the world across the shore.

The silence bloats and presses depressingly in the room, as Spiderman seems to fall from her perch and rush over to the dark skinned girl, collecting her so delicately in her arms, she'd resemble broken glass to untrained eyes. His own breathing matches a ragged pace, ripped and torn from yelling and fright and the weight of what had happened fell on his shoulders, the burden of what he'd said sitting squarely like a robe.

By his side appeared Iron Fist, who swept a cooling, healing hand across Ava's elegantly sloped cheek, murmuring a soft chant in the language he'd been bred with in K'un L'un. "My friend, let's take her to the medical bay first and see there is no harm to our tiger. Then, we can discuss what happened with more stable hearts and minds."

Spiderman nods, battle-worn and tired when he stands, curling the girl closer to his fluttering heart. But as he side-steps his friends, with the now unmasked form of Danny next to him, he chokes back his anger. "Danny, what did I just do."

"Lift this burden with your knees, Peter; you must never insult a friend by accident or fear loosing them in the pit of your rage."

Behind them, a confused bundle of teenagers collect together, to watch the retreating forms of their friends as they hurry their way towards the medical bay. There's a pregnant pause before someone, mildly timid for their outgoing nature, speaks. "What just happened?"

"Something happened to Ava, Flash, she probably hit her head or something."

Ka-zar bites back a retort. "Amadeus, there's more to it than that - he made Tempest _cry._ She is physically weak, yes, but it would take much to make her cry emotionally."

At Rhino's side, Powerman swipes a hand through his short, close-cut dark hair and smothers his teeth into his bottom lip. "Where d'ya think she went?" he doesn't acknowledge it instantly, but beside Dagger, Nova's shoulders tense and his back straightens slightly, a grim chord pressing his mouth downwards. Curiosity bleeds across his tongue, coating his teeth with interest. "Nova?"

"I know where she went."

* * *

The night air bit into her shoulders as they shook, as the panic attack that had flared like wildfire in the knitted expanse of bird-like bones died down, she curled the blanket further around her, tucking her toes in and biting back her horror. She blinked, and was assaulted by the same image that was stapled to the back of her eyelids - White Tiger's flightless body throwing up into the air, and the deathly smack she made sending her body flinching.

Tempest delved further into her cocoon of safety, pressing her face into her hands and scrubbing them through her hair, mask sliding off into waiting fingers and face bare of the makeup she sometimes wore, with a dark complexion and dark eyes and dark _everything_ and she wonders - _if I am so dark, I should have seen this coming_. She stares at the strip of blue that lines her fingers, a memory from long ago tapped into twisted and weaved and tucked strands of threads. She debates, pulling the mask upwards and then away, to putting it back on inside her cocoon of safety.

But even in her cocoon, safety is something that must be earned and she crumples the mask into a ball, biting back the sob and presses her curled fists to the center of her forehead. Her shoulders shake with ruin perched precariously across the solid planes and she jumps when the fire escape outside her window seems to cry out in pain and a murmured voice swears under their tongue.

She rears up, throwing the blankets aside and her red-tinged eyes with scarlet paper-thin veins surrounding the dark pupils, widen to the size of dinner plates as she stares across from her. Her window is wide open and a strong-arm boy is leaning precariously through, one leg thrown over the windowsill and another pressed outside on the fire escape, in the cold teeth of the wind. Spiderman seems to blink before the chaos spills over.

She jumps to her feet, scraped-up knees sliding against splintered wooden floors, the blankets curling around her toes and behind her, she hears a loud thud and Spiderman's cursed verbs. But before her fingers can scrape for purchase on the half-hanging door handle at the mouth of the abandoned apartment, her feet become ensnared like a bear trap and anxiety leaps into her throat like a frog when she see's the webbed texture that sticks her to her floor.

A strangled cry splinters through her teeth as she wrenches free of her webbed constraints, side-stepping around the jutted out arm that Spiderman swings to capture her around her bone-riddled waist. But since childhood, she's been taught to slip through shadows and shadows are harder to deceive than men.

Freedom comes in the shape of moonlight spilling across the floor and her hands out-stretch towards the ribbon that folds itself neatly on the ground, and she's so close when strong arms pull her in, and she kicks and screams and fights like she's been told too, like she's taught herself to do whenever people became too greedy when she sheltered herself on concrete streets. She shakes and claws and fractures.

"Please, don't! - I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do it, just don't hurt me! I won't go back, I promise, I'm sorry, I'm _sorry!_ "

He has his hands full with constraining the girl and he can't slip a soft word in to her sharpened edges, to sand down the fear that scrapes along her skin, cutting invisible lines into tanned arms and hands. "Temp-Tempest. Tempest, _stop!_ "

"Please, please, please don't hurt me. Please don't just let me go, I won't - "

"I'm not going to hurt you," she flinches when his voice reaches large decibels just beside her ear, but the message hums clear and someone knocks roughly on a wall somewhere, telling them to shut up, and his voice turns feather-light soft, "I won't hurt you, I'd _never_ hurt you."

In his rage, he hadn't saw it but now, it was clear as day - the way she flinched when he just rose a hand, the way she fell back and curled in like a frightened child when he walked towards her. He was the physical embodiment of every nightmare that had bashed and bruised her, the hand of everyone who'd ever hit her and he'd never wanted to be a monster. The red in his eyes had blinded him and he needed to assure her, that when the dust cleared, he'd never seen more clearly.

She deflates against his chest, and her kicking legs turn limp and he slowly releases her, letting her turn around and look at him but her eyes widen when the red, web-designed mask falls off and she's staring at a human face. Sky-blue eyes stare her down over a long nose and rounded jawline, parted brown hair falls messily past his ears but what truly silences her is to sorrow-filled downturn of his eyebrows, of the understanding that curls against his mouth. Her own fingers move upwards, unconsciously, to touch at her own temple and find she's as bare-faced as they come and for once, she doesn't want to put the balled up mask of memories over her eyes for once in her life.

He nervously screws the mask in his own hands, twisting and turning it so it wrinkles out of shape and he gulps. "I would _never_ hurt you, I can promise you that. It's just...I went crazy because one minute, Ava and I were trying out our new night-vision goggles, and the next, the lights are on and all I can see is my girlfriend being thrown across the room and you're the only one there. I-I went crazy, absolutely nuts."

He shakes his head free of the anxiety and rakes a hand through his short hair and folds his tongue around soft words. "But, that's not an excuse and I terrified you when I shouldn't have. I mean, anyone can understand getting freaked out, but to put that much fear into someone? You _flinched._ _Away_ from me. I never wanted that, and I'm really sorry for it."

Tempest stares at the boy, whose eyes avert at the end of his explanation, as if terrified that the girl who is folded together with tornadoes and hurricanes and twisters might throw one at him. But she only blinks in shock, her hands falling limp by her hips. "You're...apologizing to _me?_ "

"Yeah."

"But...I hurt her."

"Yeah, but Ava's probably one of the strongest people I know - she can take a hit. Plus, it was an accident, right?" he spears her a glance and finds nothing but honesty in her eyes and it hurts all the more that he terrified her and she never meant any of it. "You never meant it, so please, just come home."

Tempest shudders in a breath and wraps her arms around herself, ice cracking along her skin as she averted her eyes to the mess of blankets she'd crawled out of. "But...what if I do it again? If I hurt people?"

"...Then we tackle that issue, and we don't make it worse by yelling," he says, and she's glad that he doesn't utter the words 'fix it' to her. Because she's not a vase that needs to be glued together, she's not a ripped page from a book. She knows she didn't mean it, she knows that she'd never hurt Ava and Ava would never hurt her and though the pain is still raw, she's not an object to be fixed. She's someone that needs to learn.

"Alright, let's go home," she says, and she ties the blue mask around her eyes once again and Spiderman pulls the mask over his face again, though she can see the pluck of his lips upwards when she does so. Then, she's making her way to the window once again and she's propelled into the twilight sky, sucking in the air greedily over the iron arms of her fire escape. Spiderman joins her and offers her a rest from flying, when his curiosity pulls upwards.

He looks towards her, where she drinks in the light, and speaks. "Tempest, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

The playfulness in her voice is back and he's glad, and he doesn't read into the way her mouth stretches wide with a smile when the wind beats hard against the windows. "What _actually_ happened to Ava? When we took her to the medical bay, the report showed that something happened to her lungs, but it was over in less than twenty seconds."

Her smile falters and dissipates on her mouth, and her knuckles turn white on the railing as she stares into the alleyway below. "It's...it's not something I'm proud of. It only happens when I'm directly attacked and not really expecting it and I'm scared to try and control it. It's really...something that I shouldn't be able to do," she says, her voice twigging and snapping as she speaks, trying to collect her broken pieces and stitch them back into place, "but...I think, I stole the air out of her lungs."

Spiderman feels his brows rise higher on his head, and the fear lodges itself in his throat again about the dark-haired girl that he'd left asleep back at SHIELD. But he listens carefully when Tempest sighs and leans her weight even more on the railing. "I guess Predator was right when he called me a wind thief."

"Wind thief is a pretty cool code name, if you asked me."

The playfulness that touches across Spiderman's words instantly diminishes any self-hate and anger she held with a smile and she nods at him, practically sealing her fate forever with the code name. Spiderman opens an arm for her, which she gladly falls into, letting him bundle up the wind thief and aims an arm to fly them across the city and towards their home that sits where the wind and sea meet.


	9. ix

**Hiya guys, it's morgn! I just wanted to put at the start of this chapter that I am _soo_ thankful for every message I get in the reviews or in my inbox with questions or criticisms or just to pop in and go "hey! you're doing wesome! and I'm so happy you guys like this story. I'm sorry I haven't really been replying, but I'll fix that now.**

 **But really, thank you for all your messages, and I hope to see some new ones too!**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine**

Sometimes it's worse to

win a fight than to lose.

 _ **\- Billie Holiday**_

* * *

When Spiderman and Tempest arrived home, they'd been ushered to the medical bay instantly where White Tiger paced, completely fine and slightly ill-tempered. She gave her boyfriend a whack against the chest, scolding him for freaking out and that she could 'save herself' before assuring Tempest she was fine. The tension shattered and dripped away like water down a plug hole, disappearing from sight.

The days that followed were a mix of tests and exams, to test how far Tempest's powers stretched and how they truly worked within the confines of her body. After all the tests to determine how she'd accessed that much power in such a short amount of time, which had to have been done on the Tricarrier due to the immediate equipment, her bones had turned stiff and hard, stress sitting comfortably in the joints of her fingers, in the slope of her throat.

Exhaustion pooled like hot water across her face, making her eyelids droop and her nose wrinkle as she tried to stay awake. Her arms seemed to sway as she did and she ran a hand through her ragged locks. In her disoriented state, she'd dragged herself through the twisted world of the Tricarrier to be suddenly blown back by a rough gust of wind when she slides open a door.

The tiredness she exudes blinks itself free from her eyes, and she clutches her fingers into the arch of the door but feels the soft curl of invitation around her waist and she's pulled out into the sea of wind that winds happily around her. Pomegranate-painted lips pluck themselves upwards like careful seeds as she steps into the world outside, where the blades that keep them suspended in the air whir and scream and New York drifts beneath the clouds.

But her gaze falls on something that sticks out of place like a sore thumb and her feet scrape the ground; a boy in green and gold-spun hair facing away from her. An arched brow lifts above the mask and she peers around the maskless boy, finding serene features and smile on his face.

"Hello, Tempest. How are your tests going?"

" _Gyah!_ " the girl squeaks in shock, tripping over her own feet and landing in a heap beside Iron Fist, who only cracks an eye open with an amused smirk. Tempest huffs a breath and blows the hair from her face, bottom lip pouting in annoyance. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I sensed your chi energy approaching through the Tricarrier. Also, Sam has tried to prank me like that for years."

Her mouth widens into a smile as she lifts herself to her haunches, balancing precariously on the balls of her feet as she watches the martial artist straighten once again, heaving in a deep breath as he does so. She chews back the questions that threaten to spill off of her tongue about the enigma of a teenager, and he cracks another eye open to look at her again. She waves playfully, eliciting a laugh from his broad chest.

"What're you doing?"

"Meditating. Would you like to try it?" he prompts, and he shifts his body slightly to the side for her to lower herself next to him, mimicking his position and sitting as straight as a board. Iron Fist, content with his silent answer, slides back into his meditative state and resumes his controlled breathing, only to be jerked out of it once again. " _What are we meant to be doing again?_ "

Ever patient, Iron Fist slides back out of the astral plane and turns to look at the dark eyes that peer at him curiously under the blue mask, bottom lip down-turned in confusion like a harp's string. He angles his body to face her, and she copies his movements again like a mirror. "Well, first you find a position you're comfortable. Once you've done that, you control your breathing and focus on that, blanking your mind from all distractions. When your mind is blank, will you find your center."

"My...my center?"

They both settle like porcelain dolls in place, and Tempest lays her hands comfortably in her new position - knees bent and sitting back on her ankles, unlike Iron Fist - when he answers. "Yes, as in science the nucleus is the center of the cell, your center is the entirety of your being. It holds your memories, your feelings and everything else. It's inside you and it's what you make of it."

But Tempest is a world away, as Iron Fist's words filter out among the screams of the blades, of the rock of the hull of the Tricarrier. Her joints sag like sand between her fingers, her head seems to droop like a wilting flower. Her mind scatters itself like poppy seeds and she shifts into something or some _where_ she's never known, but the words on her lips spell out _'home'_.

It's a blank space but it's wide and inviting and it doesn't press down on her chest like the outside world does, like a weight against fractured ribs. Her arms spread outwards, ready to fold the space into the clockwork expanse of her chest and tuck it away for later, to remind her she belongs somewhere.

But the image splinters, fractures like a bullet thrown into glass and as the wide room drips away, panic surges across her body like the smack of an ocean tide into her hip. Only when she looks down does she find her hips embedded into the frozen embrace of water and she throws a hand out to grasp onto something, anything to tug her out of the terror that surrounds her in liquids when she makes contact with something. Pressed against her hand, is a large, long glass window that curves over her body. It presses her back into a cubicle and for once, the air doesn't fold her into it's loving embrace and instead, rushes itself from her lungs, leaving her breathless for once in her life.

The water continues to fill her cage, and she sucks in as much air as her prison cell will allow when it pulls over her head and she begs, hisses in a mantra, for Iron Fist to shake her awake for this horrible nightmare. But she's not asleep, so if it's not a nightmare... _it's a memory_.

It's a memory that doesn't fit with the others that cloud across her mind, as she tries to fit it into the puzzle of her strange sickness, into the labyrinth of the tests she was thrown into as a child. But she didn't much time to slide the pieces into place, when the environment outside of the cryogenic tube twisted violently - the once broad and wide landscape shrinking and becoming dark with flickering lights.

She stared, wide-eyed as she noticed similar cryogenic tubes lined up in a row in front of her, across the dank room, with similar liquids inside of them. The pressure on her lungs began to choke her and as she felt her eyes burn from the water and the need to breathe. But her panic paused, setting itself on a shelf momentarily as an image, blurred by the water, walked in front of the tube, pausing deliberately in front of her.

It was a man, with thick blond hair and wide eyes as he noted something down in a notepad, watching and studying her like she was a lab experiment. As much as she wanted to scream - _leave me alone, I'm not meant to be here, please, leave me alone_ \- she locked the air in her lungs, even as it cracked and shattered, shredding her lungs with pain. Then, a large hard pressed to the glass, almost as if he were admiring her immobile form in the space of water that kept her chained.

Then, he screamed as she lifted a hand to press against his and her lungs burst, making her take a breath so violently, she closed her eyes and no longer found water around her immobile toes, no longer felt the glass press her into the tube that confined her.

She was home, bent knees and Iron Fist beside her on the Tricarrier when she lurched forwards, hands pressing into the ground and coughing violently, water spluttering from her aching lungs. She felt a hand on her back, patting gently and causing the water to leave her constricted lungs. Her chest tugs air back into her malnourished chest and she pauses, her head presses to the capture cooling feeling of the Tricarrier, almost assuring herself she's on solid ground or as solid as it can get.

A beat passes and she comes up for air again, sitting back on her ankles and rubbing a hand under her mask, wiping the strain from her eyes and hiding the concerned face of the blond-haired boy. She gave him a weak, watery smile. "Tempest, are you alright? Where did the water come from?"

"Is meditation supposed to do that?" she queried, looking at him worriedly as she swept a hand down her clothes, noticing the dead weight of wet clothes was no longer upon her - they were dry and warm from the sunlight and her voice was hoarse with fright.

"No, it's not. Are you okay, what happened?"

Uneasily, she let Iron Fist into her space as he inspected her arms, her shoulders and whatever piece of skin he could find to see if she were injured in more ways then one. But the damage was internal, as her memories were shredded like paper and her heart was beating erratically, making her terrified that it would beat so hard it would collapse her inside chest like a building. Her heart was already clutched between safety pins, and they seemed to be falling out, wiggled loose by the fear that had rattled her.

She smoothed her fingers across her hair, flinching when she felt dampened ends turned dry at her touch. Unease flicked it's tongue across her cheek, warm and intruding. "I don't know what happened but...gosh, it's so horrible," her voice twigs and shakes and rumbles, an earthquake and a sob all in one tremor as she explains. "I think, at the start, I did what you said but then...maybe I dug too deep? I don't know but it felt...it felt like a memory, but I've never seen it before. I kept trying to-to put it into place, to see if maybe there was something I was unsure about but I never unearthed anything. And...and there was a man. A scientist, by the looks of him, and he screamed when I put my hand against his through the glass but before he was...he was _admiring_ me. Admiring me while I drowned."

Her words tumble and slip from her bitter tongue like syrup, sticky and unpleasant, as she recalls the almost star-struck gaze of the man. Iron Fist's light green eyes close, and she can feel his fingers, soft across her back, tighten slightly, almost gripping her clothes before he relaxes them again.

He pushes back her hair from her face as it hangs like a limp curtain, hiding her saucer-sized eyes as they watch the ground, sucking in the strange look that had dazzled the scientist's tired and exhausted eyes. She jumps once again as she feels skin touch her own hands and she looks up to find green eyes - _Sam has green eyes, much darker though_ \- watching her, with a down-turned look to his mouth. Hands, that have held the weight of iron and patience, that have made bones crack and could possibly send the world to it's knees, hold her draw-string fingers as soft as a child's.

He rubs the warmth back into them and continues to watch her, to see if cracks float across her skin or if her eyes begin to shatter from the undeserved fear. " _Are you alright?_ "

She blinks in mild confusion, before nodding her head slowly. "I will be. Thank you."

"That's what friends are for. Do you want to tell someone else about this, perhaps Fury? It seems like strange magic that has done this to you, not the calming effect of meditation that I - " but Iron Fist is cut off as the communicator blares loudly across his wrist, Fury's face lighting up the screen as he gathers a group of heroes to investigate a terror act in the middle of New York. Iron Fist rattles off his obedience, tacking on Tempest to the end, and shuts off the communicator.

He shrugs on the yellow, full-headed mask and reties it expertly as they depart, Tempest fixing her arm guards more securely. He eyes her under the mask, noticing the ball of worry and anxiousness that folds it's between her down-turned brows. Slowly, with calculated movements, he places a hand on her shoulder and ignores the twitch of muscles that have been ingrained into her being since childhood. "Tempest, I know you won't talk to Fury about this but if you ever need to, you can always come to me."

The dark-eyed girl pauses in step, falters like a skip of a note in a song, and continues with a smile at the boy, with golden hair and a crooked smile. Her own hand taps his large fingers placed over her shoulder and she nods as they continue. "Thank you."

When they arrive, with Tempest lowering Iron Fist to the ground, the other heroes there seemed to collect and surround the two. Rhino, Ka-zar, Powerman and Dagger join them, Powerman slapping a hand to Iron Fist's in greeting before spinning and lowering to the ground, eyes searching like a hungry wild-cat's.

"Powerman, what is happening? I don't see any villains," remarks Iron Fist, his curled fingers lighting with the familiar chi energy that drips off of him in waves, a juxtaposition of calm and danger all at once.

Instead of Powerman, who is fully intent on staring outward at the debris and the crackled and scorched concrete road, Dagger pipes up. "It's some...some kinda speedster or teleporter - we can't get a track on them. They pop up out of no-where and hit us," cars lay overturned like turtles on their shells, wheels still spinning wildly. Tempest felt uncertainty pull at her stringed up skin, the small worm of doubt whispering sweetly in her ear, "they're not found on SHIELD, they aren't on any documents. They're an absolute ghost."

"Well, you're right about one thing," a disembodied voice seems to catch on the wind's teeth and sets everyone on edge, and suddenly, Tempest feels pain flare across her chest and bloom across her knee, knocking her down and then sending her back into the pavement a few feet away. A strangled yelp of pain cracks behind her teeth as her head slams against the pavement. "I do just pop up out of nowhere."

Tempest can only lift her head for a moment, the pain slightly blinding her as she see's the image of a boy, short and spindly flicker out of existence just as Rhino's fist cracks the pavement with spider-like fragments. The dust from the debris floats up but Tempest can't forget the malice that had shaken in the quiver of the boy's shoulders, in the smile that cat's claws picked at.

Slowly, gathering up strength hidden in the corners of her limbs, she pulls herself to her feet and massages her knee gently as the group creates a haphazard circle, watching from all directions for the boy that seemed to split air apart. Beside her, Dagger readied herself with the light-wrapped teeth between her fingers. "Tempest you good?"

A dazed nod, but otherwise, she's ready. "I'm good. I can take a hit," she murmurs, and she collects the air against her toes and pushes from the floor, hovering slightly above the pavement to get a slightly higher view from her vantage point, putting her level to Iron Fist. "He's not a teleporter, but he's not a speedster. You can see speedsters no matter how fast they go."

"Perhaps it is not that we can't see him, but something is preventing us - a cloak to a blind man makes no difference," Iron Fist murmurs, eagle eyes penetrating the world around him. Beside him, Rhino grunts, toes digging in roughly to the cement.

Dagger murmurs beneath her breath, soft words trilling almost angrily on the tip of her tongue. " _Cloak, cloak cloak_ \- wait. Guys, I've got an idea for - "

"You know, for Fury's specialized lackeys," the disembodied voice, gravelly and croaking, burns Tempest's ears and she feels another punch to her stomach, but she only bends in pain, eyes catching onto steel-toed boots, purple strips of fabric and a thick cloak that flutters around the short boy's body, twisted with gadgets and knives that glint like glass. "You're not very good at seeing what's in front of you," with frightening clarity, she realizes as he gives another well aimed hit with his elbow to the back of her neck, sending her down to the ground as Dagger swipes her knives at him, that he's aiming for her. _He's taking out the weakest column first_.

Dagger rears out of the circle with an angry cry, Iron Fist and Rhino turning around quickly to aim hard punches. Rhino just clips the boy with a horn, whose fire-breathing eyes spear him with a glance that burns like red-hot needles in the base of his spine. When another fist, white with strength, flies to contact with his nose, he's gone in a blink.

As Tempest nurses her abdomen, Power man pulling her into his side almost protectively, his skin rumbles with a deep growl. "This little blind spot is getting on my nerves," he hisses, top lip curling in distaste. "He seems intent on getting at you, Temp."

"It's cause he's smart, he thinks I'm weak," she answers, finding only gravel in her voice as she talks, the uncertainty having eaten and chewed at her vocal chords until she turned hoarse with the fear that bit at her lungs. She pats a hand against Powerman's arms, stepping out from his shield and stands her ground as the circle reforms, tighter and closer together, locking the team in one large knot. "He's gonna find out I'm stronger than I look pretty soon."

"Good, because we're gonna need that," answered Dagger, the air turning tense as they waited for the boy to pop up once again. "Fist, you said something about a cloak. How about we make a smoke screen and draw the little bugger out with it. Here's what's gonna go down..."

In a few minutes, the circle broke and two teams sped away - Iron Fist, Rhino and Tempest with Dagger, Ka-zar and Powerman on the other side. Iron Fist and Rhino flanked the dark-haired girl, who fixed her mask and swallowed the air greedily. They stood slightly over her, flanking her with their fists held low in soft defense and eyes glued to the ground - _watch the ground, watch the ground_ \- as they waited. Across from them, Ka-zar twirled a bo-staff, Powerman lowered himself to the ground and Dagger counted her knives under her tongue - _watch the ground, he'll be running_ \- as the wait continued in the game of seen or unseen.

Suddenly, Ka-zar's head shot up, eyes narrowing as his heightened senses twigged on something out of the ordinary and bars struck across Tempest's chest as she saw the shadow of shoes in the ground, dusting upwards to reveal the shadowed form of legs as he appeared. Then, both Iron Fist's and Rhino's fists slammed into the ground, sending up dust and debris as the boy's coil-like figure flickered into reality, creating a smoke screen between them and their masked assailant.

Tempest's role flared up and she lifted a hand slowly, her eyes narrowing to slits as she saw the startled, vague figure of the boy covered in dirt and dust. Even though her fright at the stability of her powers rears an ugly head, her fingers flex, muscles spasm under stretched skin and unleashes a whirlwind, spitting it out into the surrounding area. Windows shatter with the brutality of it's scream and the surrounding dust parts, revealing the boy for all to see.

As he scrambled for purchase on a splintered road, his blackened hood flies off, revealing thick, curly raven black hair that flutters back with the force of the screech the whirlwind exudes, matting his body with dust so he can't disappear again. Dark skin seems dulled from what she can see of an upturned nose and thin eyes that seem only good for glaring. But they're full of terror as his feet skid across the ground, loosing their hold and the steel toes falter and he lifts, flying back into the air.

As he cracks against the ground with a solid _thwack_ , his hands dig almost fervently, as if not predicting the outcome, for a device locked away in the skin-tight purple and black suit he wears. She pulls back the angered wind, tucks it back into her ribs for another day as the boy bounces up, pressing a device to try and disappear once again, but the dust and dirt that shrouds him making him visible to everyone.

Dagger, Powerman and Ka-zar bolt into action, Dagger twisting her daggers towards the boy who flickers back into existence, ready to peel off the pavement into the cover of the over-shadowing buildings when a bo staff knocks him against the stomach and a missile-strong fist plants itself into his cheek, cracking his nose and a groan of pain pulls from him. Dagger snags her knives into the corners of his cloak with deadly accuracy, sending him to the ground as another punch sends him into the ground, and he slumps tiredly.

"Lights out, you little blind spot," hisses Powerman, pulling back his fist and ready to send him into the embrace of unconsciousness when a hand grasps his elbow. Iron Fist stands beside him, tranquility playing a scene on his face.

"Leave him be for now, he will need his energy for later," he says, and Powerman falters before lowering his fist, nodding and pressing a hand out to Rhino, transmitting the same message as his hands curl angrily at his armoured hips.

But Tempest, with no intent to attack, approaches the cloaked boy, who stares wide-eyed and unseeing up at the sunlit sky. She lowers herself to her haunches, watching as he heaves and sighs, never blinking and - _he's blind_. Silver eyes never turn to her, but a hand brushes along the ground until it connects around her ankle, and she jumps from the contact slightly and a sickly sweet smile of unabashed victory places itself rigidly over his lips.

He licks at his chapped lips, and turns unseeing eyes towards her, grinning. "Wind thief," the chatter of the teenage heroes dies down as he speaks and she tries to pull away, only to fall back as his grip tightens around her ankle. "We've been looking for you."


	10. x

**_Surprise!_ Double chapter supreme! Thought I'd give you guys a treat since you've all been so amazing, and have had to wait a full week for each chapter - which I know from experience can be torture. But, please remember that I update 'Volatile' every Wednesday, and if I miss a week, you guys have full-frontal permission to throw tomatoes at me, or jump in my inbox and give me a friendly nudge. **

**Also, if you guys are really into this story, I've noticed some of you have talked about it together and have approached me with the subject of making a group or something to commemorate this story and Tempest - which I cannot even believe! That's _so cool_! **

**I'm glad you guys enjoy this so much, and someone gave me the term 'wind-bearer' for the name, so that's what I'm gonna call you guys!** **I hope that's alright** **. But again, thank you and I'm glad some of you really enjoy this story!**

 **Enjoy this chapter guys, you deserve it!**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten**

Nothing makes us so

lonely as our secrets.

 _ **\- Paul Tournier**_

* * *

"I want to go talk to him."

" _Tempest,_ " the word is dragged out in annoyance, which snaps at his heels as he walks beside her, arms crossing across a star-wreathed chest. Nova tilts his head, and she can feel the blade of his glare cut across her skin. "You can't and you know it."

Her shoulders shudder as agitation shakes a breath across her cheek, rips and tears at her chest as she shakes her hands free of the fear that plants itself like a sapling in her ribs, coiling and bending to it's hearts content. Her fear bends her emotions on puppeteer strings, dancing her hands as she speaks. "Nova, he knows something about me, something _I_ don't know. I should know everything about me."

His mouth pulls into a thin line and he twists on a shredded heel, and he doesn't realize their closeness - how she bends towards him with a silent challenge slipping tenderly from her bow-string lips, hands on hips as he regards her. He almost smiles - a few weeks ago, a month ago - she'd never be so intruding and he's glad of it, but agitation hums across his skin as he see's the determination flicker across her eyes. "Tempest, _no_. A couple of weeks ago, you'd never want to even look at that guy again after something like that. I'm proud of you, I really am, but you're not allowed."

As if finality stutters on his mouth into the open air, he clicks his heels and carries on down the hallway. But he only gathers a small distance when sorrowed playfulness bites the inside of her cheek, along with desperation pricking itself into the crease of her elbow. "I'd do it for you if you asked."

"That's not fair."

"And neither is this," she murmurs, marble frosting itself on her face as she watches him, and destruction curls at her feet when he see's the pain that flicks over her, the waves of hurt that threaten to swallow him into an oceanic gullet and drown him. Piano string fingers play a tune on his shoulder when she tugs, forcing him to turn to her and she keeps them there. " _Please,_ Sam. Let me have this."

His teeth sink into his lower lip, supernovas colliding in the space of his chest when he sighs in defeat. He presses a hand into her hair, running his fingers through the knots and curls that splay across her tight, shoe-laced shoulders. Her smile blinds him, white teeth (a crooked one making his own lips twitch upwards) thrown wide and suddenly, a weight presses against his chest.

The air is knocked out of him and the giggle that hits his ears makes his breath turn slightly uneven. Weeks ago, she'd have never initiated contact, would have never pressed herself willingly into someone's arms and let theirs encircle her. But now, with happiness and determination creating a toxic brew on her tongue, she hardly seems to care as she lets Nova press her close for a brief second before pulling back. "Thanks, Sparky."

She can see the roll of his leaf-green eyes as he ruffles her hair once more, his smile unusually soft and it warms the cracks in her skeleton, the glass of her heart. "Whatever, brown eyes. If I get in trouble for this, you owe me."

Her nose wrinkles like paper at the nickname. " _Brown eyes?_ "

"What, too obvious?"

Her laugh is loud and they turn, snaking along the walls and eyes downcast as not to grasp attention to themselves, and they collect silence like stars in their lungs, until thick double doors, as much of a mechanical monster like the rest of the Tricarrier and the softness that had breathed life into a youthful face dissipates at the sight, the scowl pressing at the corner of doe eyes is sure to garner a wrinkle or two with times weight as the world presses on her chest.

Nova, with tentative movements, ghosts his wrists across the identification pad before scrambling to work to erase his DNA alignment inside to create him as a ghost on the system for this particular hallway of horror. Tempest, however, glides with the fragility of glass and the essence of a dancer on quivering toes.

She commands attention as she falls like a shadow between glass and metal, ignoring the leers of the convicts that sit a world away behind reinforced structure. Nova joins her moments later, sending a nasty look to the cruel words that spill from villain mouths. Stagnant silence falls behind them as they leave them behind to rot in their metal boxes, away from a city that has never known their destructive fingers.

"You should not be here, wind thief," a familiar voice presses on her ears and the girl turns, Nova following suit, to find the strong form of Triton, who slides towards them with regality playing across his collarbones, humming a tune that only attalantean could possibly decipher. "And you, silver tongue. You should remember to lock your doors."

Nova's nose wrinkles like Tempest's had, a mirror image on tanned skin. " _Silver_ tongue?"

Triton nods, hands clasped at the base of his back. "Yes. it is a term in Attilan that, if I can decipher it in common, means 'demented idiot' perhaps?" Tempest snorts into curled fingers and Nova growls low, whilst innocence presses against Triton's eyes. His cheeks lift slightly with a smile as he notices the shuddering, laughing form of the hurricane girl beside him. "Perhaps not."

"No, you're quite right with the translation."

"Hey! Temp, I'm helping _you_ here," persecution fizzles on his pointed finger towards her, and he flinches when Triton lifts an aquatic brow, the only change in his posture besides from the head-tilt towards the dark haired girl. She sucks in a harsh breath, but nevertheless, stays as still as the statue that curls across her lungs.

"And what, pray tell, may you be helping her with?" When Nova gives him a sharp look - _don't ask, go away, this is none of your business_ \- an almost child-like smile twitches his mouth into a smile, and he splays his hands out in offering. "I only inquire because I wish to help; you intrigue me."

Eyes widen to round saucers, and Tempest feels relief wash over her skin before tilting an angled chin down the rest of the hallway. They scurry past the other criminals that litter the darkened halls, and the fragility that had once smoothed the curls of her hair disappears in the movement of her tongue over chapped lips, in the crack of her knuckles as she pauses in front of the window that holds a boy wrapped in black and purple.

A live wire runs electricity across her skin, a current of fear at the malice and mischief that decorates the boy's eyes like bells that have yet to be rung. She swallows her anger and replaces the foul taste with confusion, determining that Iron Fist would be proud of the river of tranquility that has replaced the blood in her veins. "Who _are_ you?"

The boy - and still, _just a boy_ \- chuckles as he slumps like a wishbone against the glass of the window, hands laid low in his open lap and haphazardly crossed. His body language is an imagery of brokenness already, but his strong and steel-like features say otherwise. He shakes his head, raven hair shaking with as much force as his head and his laugh is as humorless as his eyes, blind and unseeing.

"This isn't a legal interrogation, wind thief, so I don't need to answer a thing."

His hiss makes her flinch, the body of a soldier crumbling around her and revealing the muddied face of a frightened little girl - _but the little girl has knives for teeth._ "You will answer when asked. Who are you, and what do you know about me?"

The chocolate-skinned boy, with his long legs and long arms and long body, rises and stands, pressing his forearm against the cool glass and leaning down, so close she can see the image of freckles through the glass. "We've been looking for you for a long time, Tempest, surely you're smart enough to know who we are."

She gulps back her scream, and feels the radiating warmth that curls around Nova's being across her own skin from his closeness. She can feel the dampness on Triton's, knowing he has been floundering in the water around the Triskellion once again and her strength returns in spades. " _Elaborate_ for me, Blind Spot."

He snorts a laugh, shoulders shaking and she can practically feel the sting of his thoughts across her shoulder blades, weighing her down until she falls through the hull of the Tricarrier - _stupid girl, you should know better than to ask a wolf if he's a cat._ His gaze flickers up and shrouds all three teenagers in the room as best he can.

"Have any of you heard of HAL?" when his answer is met with a long, pregnant silence, his smile twitches and he turns back to Tempest, almost at glee. "Human Alterations Laboratories. You were a very sick little girl, weren't you, once upon a time?"

Her head turns away from him, and it's as if he can feel the vibration of it in the air like she can, when he starts to laugh, deep from his stomach and out into the air. The sound attacks her ears and she can feel herself, all the progress she's made over the years and the past few weeks, crumbling like stone columns around her, the debris flattening her into the wasteland-ground.

But a hand on her shoulder pulls her back and places her in Nova's careful hands, gently but the knuckles are tight and the large form of Triton stands over her. The boy's laugh is cut short when he slams his own forearm and fist into the glass, shaking it and sending the boy stumbling back, falling down in shock. Triton's words are no more than a growl, "you shall answer her questions without this pathetic display of strength that you put up. You are a child, and we shall beat you into the dust if you do not cooperate."

Nova and Tempest stare in slight horror and pride at the shackled form of the Attilan boy, and when Blind Spot sighs and nods, defeated, Triton turns back and smiles at her, something soft that she's never seen before and he spreads his arms, as if guiding her onto her stage. She nods at him, mouthing the word 'thank you' and returns to her place.

"How far away are they?"

Blind Spot hums, dragging the session on and he flicks up his hood, showing he likes the darkness better. "Hmm, not far. Though, when I get out of here, you won't even see them coming."

"Who says you're leaving?"

"Who says I'm not?"

Savage flames curl and bind her lungs together, destruction peeling itself over her snake-skin heart and breathing in her anger at the boy, who seems to only want to tease her and dance around her questions. Her nerves fray as her savageness, as the wind turns into a hurricane in her chest, lashes out. "You only have your words as your weapon, Blind Spot. You have no gadgets, no allies. You're alone and it would be better if you made this easier."

"But where would be the fun in that," it's as if he can feel the ruin in her bones, can feel the cities crumble across her shoulders as the earthquake shatters her skin in two, "uh uh, wind thief, don't take my breath away now. Remember the spider's motto."

Nova stands beside her, juxtapositioned to her crumbling form. "The spider isn't here or of your concern."

"Tell your bodyguards to stay out of this, this is between me and you," he murmurs, tilting his head at her. He sighs when he doesn't hear the descending feet and shakes her head, mocking her.

"How many are there?"

"About two hundred."

"How far away?"

"Don't know," he slithers, standing again and something seems to come loose in his coil like form, seems to splinter across his knees like a broken stick and wildness becomes rooted in the vessel of his spine. "They're-They're gonna find you, Tempest. They will, I'll make sure of it when I get out of here and tell them. You're their hope, their shining beacon of victory against everything else that failed. They'll find you and take you home and I'll make sure of it!"

Blind Spot's voice curls into dizzying decibels, becoming louder and louder and the only word that can possibly mock his sudden change in demeanor could be 'crazy'. The three teenagers step back as he bangs against the window, trying to alert whoever is out there of the intruder's in the cell block. Tempest's eyes fills with tears as the words grate on her and she clutches the fear she knows so intimately, as it rests like wildflowers in the scutes of her spine.

Nova gathers her into his arms, pulling her away from the crazed sight with Triton on his heels and he wants to forget the flinch when she's touched, how she reverts back to shying away from him as they push through the cell block and out into the open space of the Tricarrier. She rakes fingers through her hair, a nervous habit he's deemed, and when he reaches for her, she stumbles back from his touch.

In the cell block, when silence rings clear, Blind Spot purses his lips and presses a thin digit against the glass. The glass splinters with lightning cracks, small and dilute, from where Triton had slammed his fist into the glass window. It cracks and slithers, small enough that only the clearest of eyes could see it. "I'll make sure of it."


	11. xi

**Boom! Another chapter of 'Volatile' at your fingertips, hope you guys enjoy. Gosh, I almost didn't update this week because I had to bounce to the doctors after - _get this_ \- some girl _bit_ me. On _the forehead_. It's so funny oh my gosh, I'm the shortest person ever and she tripped into me whilst talking to her friends and...it's just funny. Anything happen like this too you guys? **

**Anyways, again, I hope you guys enjoy and thank you all for your lovely reviews and I wouldn't be adverse to seeing more (nudge). Thank you again, and have fun reading, wind-bearers!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven**

A whole stack of memories

never equal one little hope.

 _ **\- Charles M. Schulz**_

* * *

Exhaustion trails weathered fingers, rough with callouses and pain, down the length of her spine, and it slides across her nervous system and untangles the knotted veins in her fingers, spreading the toxic ache across her muscles. She slumps tiredly against the wall, lowering herself until she slides gently to the ground.

Her opposite in many ways, Powerman drops like a brick to the ground next to her, rubbing rough hands over high cheekbones and sighing contentedly. "Man, if that wasn't a work out, I might just quit SHIELD."

Tempest's just lurches with a silent laugh, a smile smearing her lips wide like paint across her tanned skin and she cards a few fingers through her tangled locks, instability locking her joints together from the strength she has to use to do a simple task. She lays her hand over her shoulder, trapping the stray lock there from her forehead. "And to think, we've got patrol after this with Venom and SG."

"Oh sweet Christmas, as if those two aren't gonna tire us out even more," he remarks, lifting his sunglasses to wipe the sweat that collects around the bridge of his nose and lowering it again. He pulls himself to his feet, large form stretching tiredly, and holds out a hand for the small brunette to grab. "I'm gonna take a shower, meet you in half an hour."

She nods at him tiredly, and as they part ways through the labyrinth, the exhaustion she feels smothers the wounds and bruises together that she's collected over the training day and she's all but ready to sink into her bunk bed, and she waves a hand over the monitor to let her into the room.

The wide expanse of the bunk room flickers with lights and she pauses in mid-step towards her bunk, where she can see a figure crouched over the top bunk, leaning into hers with another body lay flat out on the top bunk, holding their legs. A brow lifts from on her sweat-covered forehead, the scowl that mars her face with a wrinkle and stretching the scar at the corner of her mouth only hums with amusement when a squirrel - Silly Billy _,_ if she remembers correctly - skitters across the wall and onto the hanging body of the boy.

"Sam?"

The boy screeches in shock and surprise from the squirrel and Tempest's arrival that he kicks his legs free of his captor's hold, resulting in landing practically face first on the ground and flipping over, causing the squirrel to launch high into the air and towards Tempest. Her eyes widen and she throws her arms out, creating a cone of concentrated air in front of her, allowing the squirrel to drop into it unharmed and away from her until she lowers it into her palms.

A screech from the top bunk shocks her, makes her flinch back when Squirrel Girl bounces up. "Billy!" her agile body jumps from the top bunk, over the crumpled form of Sam, and racing on pointed toes to collect the small squirrel from between Tempest's hands. Over the weeks, though she'd gotten used to the loud nature that fell in waves from the hyperactive girls pores, she still jumped at the shrill sound of her voice.

Squirrel Girl chirped at the frightened animal that buried itself in her neck, sniffing out comfort, before delving into the bristles of her tail. Behind her Sam, dressed in civilian clothes, huffed. "Hey! You didn't stop to try to help the person you _dropped?_ "

"You threw Silly Billy!"

"That's not _my_ fault!" Sam, albeit slightly shakily, pulled himself to his feet, seething when he felt pain explode across his forehead and stumbled into a shorter body that steadied him with a hand to the waist. He turned down, finding expecting doe eyes staring up at him. Nervously, laughter rumbled in his abdomen. "Hey Tempest, how's it, uh, how's it going?"

"What were you doing?"

The curiosity chews at the base of her spine, and the warrior that slips in his bloodstream is taken down by the glow of brown eyes that question him. "It was meant to be a surprise."

A slanted jaw opens to reiterate her words, but the room is suddenly plunged into darkness and sudden fear tangles itself into her locks at the loss of sight. Her hand, loosely pressed to his side, curls further into the shirt, tighter like a chain and Sam, thankful for the darkness, lets an amused smile break on his features when her eyes, albeit wild with fear, turn to where her bed is and soften almost immediately.

Across the wall that it's pressed up too, and to the underside of SG's own bunk, green glow in the dark stars light up the corner of her room. Her jaw slackens and galaxies charge across her veins, prompting her to release herself from her anchor and step forwards in the dark, fingers ghosting like intangible clouds across the plastic bodies of the small five-studded shape.

When wonder creeps across her ribs, the lights flicker on and she's staring at a metallic wall as the stars fade into the colour of it, like camouflage. Turning, she spots the hopeful looks of the two teenagers and rises, careful not to trip over her confusion. "What...what is this?"

"We knew you didn't like the dark," starts Squirrel girl, the usual ball of energy wringing her hands like dish cloths, eyes downcast with a small, shy twitch of cherry lips, "you always stayed awake until the end and you'd ask someone to turn the light on if it was turned off."

Sam pulls at the roots of his hair, and she pretends to not acknowledge the red tint that decorates his tanned cheeks, "so we, uh, we sorta found some glow in the dark stars and we thought that you wouldn't be so scared if a bit of the sky was always out."

He grunts when her arms wrap around him, pressing her mess of dark curls into his chest and he's tempted to pick apart the knots with fingers like needles in her hair tenderly. But she pulls SG into the hug too, wind-curled fingers pulling her close and she shares a watery smile. "This means a lot to me you guys, thanks."

His heart gives a playful tug towards her, with a wide smile that is familiar only to his mouth and he pulls away from the group hug, wiping pretend dust from his shirt. SG snuggles into Tempest's shoulder, giggling when the girl lets her. "Yeah, okay, I've got to go, I've got a date, but don't tell any - "

"Because you've got a reputation, now watch it Sparky," her playfulness bats against his chest and throws him off-course, but he shrugs his shoulders and tosses a goodbye across his shoulders, leaving the two girls to chatter.

Although sleep evades her due to Squirrel Girl's constant talking - _I wonder if anyone else speaks squirrelease, you know?_ \- but Tempest reigns it in and soon, the time for patrolling the city arrives and she waltzes across the faded line of faking sick and taking responsibility, before allowing Squirrel Girl to pull her out of the room, tossing a goodbye to Dagger over her shoulder who works diligently over her revision notes for the reactor core test from the Whizzer.

Atop the Triskellion, Powerman and Agent Venom wait on top, and Venom whoops loudly to gain their attention, pulling SG into a tight hug on arrival. When he moves to collect Tempest, he hesitates and pulls his arm back, murmuring an apology when she flinches. The girl tucks her fear beneath her top lip and smiles, patting his shoulder in greeting. However, Tempest's brow furrowed and she wrinkled her nose with a sniff.

"Powerman?"

"Yeah?"

"...why do you smell like Cocoa butter?"

The teen superhero stiffened slightly, glaring at Agent Venom when he spluttered with laughter, hanging heavily on SG's shoulder to keep from falling. Powerman leveled a large digit at her. "I hate you and your damn wind powers. In my defense, a grown man can smell like cocoa butter if he wants too."

A wide smile tugged at her mouth and she shook her head playfully at him before they set off for New York, Tempest going back and forth for her teammates, laughing as she heard the jokes fall from smiling mouths - _maybe you'll make Spidey fall for ya' too with that_ \- and depositing an especially wide eyed Powerman - _don't even joke about that man_ \- on a rooftop finally.

It wasn't long before Fury's face lit up the communicators on their wrists, commenting on suspicious activity near them and the team set off, depositing their laughter for later. It doesn't take long to find the culprit of the suspicious activity, a shadow flitting about the belly of the city, breathing a cataclysmic storm with every sharp look that sends the lights in the street lamps bursting.

The New Yorkers run, a stampede of fear nestling into the ribcage of the city, and Powerman, the oldest SHIELD representative among them, bounces to the ground and brings the team with him. Before them, a girl with dark, thin hair that twists to her waist in an elegant braid, secured with a simple red band, stands like a soldier, as if a violin string was twisted through her spine. She wore a simple black jumpsuit that left her arms exposed and showing the array of long scratch marks that curled around her arms for all to see and Tempest flinched at the sight.

Connected to her front, a long black face mask came up to cover her mouth and stopped just below the tip of her pointed nose, showing cold brown eyes that narrowed on the four teenagers. Tempest shoulders the twinge of familiarity in her stomach at the glare, and lays it as the foundation for the city that cements her bones together. Venom nudges her, concern coating his posture and she shook herself free of the feeling, spearing a look towards the Chinese girl.

Powerman throws a hand out, two fingers twisted to fold in his palm and SG and Venom start to move, and Tempest moves in the opposite direction, subtly creating a circle around the girl that folds earthquakes into her hands like crumpled paper. He waits a moment, before straightening. "Listen, we don't wanna hurt you. So why don't you stop what you're doing and come back with us?"

"Loyalty lies in the veins as much as pride," she mutters in Chinese, a sickly sweet smile on her features and suddenly, her legs bend and springs lock themselves into the soles of her feet and she's lunging towards Powerman. Any reflection of humanity disappears off of the planes of her face and she's screaming, hurricanes pulling from behind her teeth as she punches wildly.

Powerman stumbles back, throwing an arm up to block the girl and shock embroiders itself across his skin on knots as he's sent back with another kick to the stomach. The Chinese girl is small and spindly, with bones that jut out of her skin like sharp knives and mountain ridges, but Powerman seems to be in physical pain when she kicks out at him.

She's blinded, only by Squirrel Girl lunging forwards, climbing the ridges in her structure to wrap her legs around the back of the girl's waist and bury her into the bristles of her brown tail. The girl screams as she loses her sense of sight, but grabs Squirrel Girl by the ankles that clutch her around the waist. Squirrel Girl freezes, like ice crawls across her veins and the action alone causes the girl to pull her off and throw her into Venom, who crashes to the ground like a brick.

They fall like dominoes, and Tempest freezes in fear as she clutches Powerman around the neck and he crumples like waste paper, falling against a limp Squirrel Girl immediately - a strange occurrence for the boy made of muscle. Tempest glides forwards and works to rouse the two heroes, who look to be no more than sleeping but when she feels something large fall against her, horror stitches itself across her shaking knees and shoulders as Venom's immobile features stare up at her.

He drops at her feet like a sack of potatoes and she looks up, shaking like a leaf at the animosity that curls iron claws around the girl's features. Her elegant braid has only one hair loose, her clothes are hardly rumpled or dirtied by the fight and she swaggers forwards, hips swinging with confidence and she finally speaks in English. "Wind Thief; it's a pleasure."

"Get _away_ from them. Get away from _me_."

The iron that she'd fought to wring around her heart crumples and spits into the ground with her words, voice cracking on the splintered remains of her strength. The girl shakes her head, tucking the stray lock of hair away behind her pointed elf ear, her cheeks pulling wide.

"You shouldn't have run, Tempest," she murmurs, low enough for only them to hear and the laugh that strikes her across the face is harsh, "it won't be long until you can never walk, let alone run."

"Go _away!_ " sudden power leaks across her metal-plated heart and it beats with revitalized energy, churning a tornado in her fingers and it explodes from her hands, a deathly circle of hot and cold air around her and the slumped heroes. It stretches high into the air and though the power saps her strength, she presses forwards. It throws up scattered remains of the street, splintered glass that swirls in a circle.

Wind-stretched fingers snap out at the Chinese girl from the tornadoes twisted body, and she smoothly jumps and swerves the attacks. She flies back from a particularly harsh punch of air that winds her, but when Tempest's energy is sapped and no-one has come to her aid, as if no-one had seen the cyclone of distress that had carried her screams into the sky, she slumps to the ground, breathing heavily on her knees.

In her daze, she turns to look up, only to have snake-like fingers press over her face and she unconsciously leans away from it, flinching harshly at the touch. Her eyesight disappears into a darkened palm and it leaks black at the sides, threatening the fall into subconsciousness, and she spits her fear into her hands as she screams when the girl speaks. "The psyche is only as strong as it's vessel," and she slumps against Powerman, tears trailing across her cheeks.

* * *

She doesn't open her eyes like normal. The world is black around her, dripping into nothingness when she rises and the hurricane girl feels pain stab across her temple, stretching like a darkened hand across her eyes and she stumbles, pressing into the ground.

Something gentle, like a flower bud of fury, rises and falls inside her as she tries to determine where she was before this strange place, why it seems slightly familiar but foreign to her own skin when the scenery flips and distorts into something new. It's stretched with grass and trees, a lake spread like blue paper across the far side of her vision and calmness pulls at her chest.

When she feels gentle and calm, something small barrels against her legs and sends her tripping backwards into the ground, but she remains standing to catch the foreign object. When she looks down, something small and slight is pressed to her knees, small, chubby arms wrapped tightly around her knees and her eyes widen when the small object lifts its head of closely shaven black hair. A gap-toothed smile greets her as the dark-skinned child stares up at her.

Just as she begins to piece the puzzle pieces together, the child disappears in a swipe of air and steals the scenery with him, leaving her in the dark for a moment once again. Her brow furrows, and her attention is then pulled into something else. A hallway, dark with a lamp light on at the end, surrounds her and the same child, tucked into pajamas, hangs around a doorway. His head pokes out from behind the doorway, peering curiously down the hall, as if he can see her ghostly form.

He's grown from the five second interaction she'd seen of him, taller and his cheekbones slope more defined, with tell-tale signs of a handsome face when he grows. But he's young, only ten, when she connects her eyes with him and the brown hues sparkle before they dip around the corner of the door again. The name that spills off of a woman's tongue and coats the hallway causes her to pause.

" _Luke! Time for bed, baby!_ "

When the child - _Luke, do I know that name?_ \- disappears behind the doorway, the scenery once against disappears in the wide space, leaving her alone to clutch at straws. The shape of this world, that name, strings a chord tightly in her bird-bone chest; it hums to life in her ears, begging her to listen, but something deafens her against the song. The large space reminds her of something, but her mind wears thin as she's thrown into another movie scene.

The light bleeds forcefully into the hallway, and Luke scours the halls of the school, eyes downcast and shoulders hunched - and somehow, she knows, _this is not ingrained into you_ \- and she flinches when a loud crack of a punch fills her ears. Luke drops, slamming into the ground as a boy, larger than life, hangs over him, jeering slurs and nasty words into his ears and fury curls protectively in her fists.

 _But Iron Fist wouldn't be proud if you hurt him,_ her mind whispers discreetly, and she pauses. _Wait, whose Iron Fist?_

As Luke pulls himself up, the image distorts again and leaves no time for her to wonder as the world pulls her into another movie scene of a plane and the boy, grown older and larger in mass, though not by much, as he chatters to his parents. She can feel the gentle feeling that had rose in her suddenly turn violent, as the scenes of the boy's life had flickered by, and they reach their peak when the growl of a plane behind the one she holds onto permeates the air.

Panic bleeds toxic into the air, and the man - _Walter, we need to get him out_ \- steadies the pane though his hands shake and his eyes dart but he tosses a smile to his son. The woman - _mom, what's going on?_ \- drags her son behind a cargo plane and Tempest can feel her fists itch as violence that isn't her own bites into her shoulder blades, poisoning her nerves.

As a man, dressed like a scorpion flicks his tongue like it's venomous tail, Luke's mother presses a vial of blue liquid to his mouth, forcing the mixture into his throat and, with hesitation, violently pushes him out of the air craft and into the water below. The angle of the image shifts, as Luke's form flickers and fills out, creating the boy that she knew was wrapped in black and yellow, and he watches with a scream on his tongue as the plane explodes.

 _How do I know this?_ her mind hisses at her, spreading words across her skin that she begs to decipher, how she knows what it's like to be inside such an open space and why she shivers when she can feel the need to punch out lurch in her abdomen.

The scene flickers once more and it's only Luke and a blond-haired boy, their clothes dusted from battle and their sweat creates trails through the mud on their cheeks but their smiles are so wide, Tempest worries if their skin will blister. Their hands shake, formal against informal, and suddenly, the shorter blond boy is pulled into a powerful hug. She smiles, almost fondly, as if she knows who they are.

" _Welcome to SHIELD, my friend._ "

The next few images show his interactions with his teammates as he meets them, until the movie ends on his smiling face, staring past her in a wide room, with floor-to-ceiling windows and jagged marks that run through the floor like open wounds. She turns, and her jaw slackens in shock.

The doors part open and suddenly, Tempest is staring at herself. Her eyes, doe-like in their innocence, are rounded in interest as she watches the room with eyes like a predator, her knees bending as she folds herself into a stance. Her face is gaunt, her cheeks hollow with hunger and her eyes sharp and slant as the years of survival creep upon her. Then, she's suddenly swept into Nova's chest, - _wait, I know Nova_ \- as he calls out to the watching eyes about her arrival and she's carted off to stand in front of Powerman and Iron Fist. Her past self stands beside her, and Tempest realizes with shocking clarity, she's held in the thread-thin wisps of Powerman's memory.

 _"Hey Tempest, I'm Powerman. You gotta remember me right?"_

As his words crack, the environment around her - _this is his head, this is where I was in my own head when I meditated with Iron Fist_ \- shatters sharply, a large, jagged line baring it's teeth down the memory and she can feel the anger, the violence that had flared in her veins drip away when she feels the hands over her face again, although she knows they're not there.

"This isn't you, Tempest."

These hands though, they're soft and understanding, and the world cracks around them and her eyes open to the real world, to a place where hands rest over her eyes,when the black fades from her vision and Spiderman hangs over her, eyes-panels wide as his chest heaves with his breathing.

"This isn't you," she doesn't realize it immediately, but the words that sound soft and gentle in her ears are his and the hand over her eyes is his and Tempest feels safe as her hands, which had been curled into fists, slowly sink to her hips and her face, which had been curled into a nasty snarl, softens. "That's it, Temp. Come home to us."

The words he murmurs, so easy and strong, tangible and intangible resonate in her head, seem to soothe her and gently, the hurricane girl slumps forwards into Spiderman's waiting arms, which gather her up as she sinks into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The world blurs into focus once again, and the blinding lights that flicker above her are marred by curious faces and worried eyes. She groans when she presses a hand to her head, a headache blooming rapidly and painfully behind he eyes and she vaguely feels water pressed to her hand.

She accepts it, swallowing tightly and wetting her lips. "O-Oh my god, did Rhino... _punch_ me?" constrained laughter blooms around her, and Tempest finds a smile lighting her face when she see's the relieved features of her friends, masks off and faces exposed to the world. She vaguely notices the absent form of her own mask, but she doesn't worry any longer as Nick Fury slides into view and she can see the older forms of the parents she'd seen in the visions, and relief for this stranger of a girl shines on their faces. _I'm home._

"Tempest, how're you feeling?"

"Like a truck hit me," she answers, rubbing a hand over her features and she can see out of the corner of her eyes, her other three teammates sliding up to listen, Powerman letting his mother smooth back the small buzz of hair and place a kiss to his forehead. His smile is so wide, it almost cracks with happiness. "What happened?"

"Oh, it was _so_ cool, Temp," Nova glides up to her throwing his helmet off and it clatters on the edge of her bed as the green-eyed boy speaks over his superior, excitement flooding her features. _He's been waiting to tell me this for a while._ "You guys all switched powers, you had super-strength, SG bonded with the _symbiote_ , Powerman was all crawling walls and swiping at Tiger and Venom had wind powers, though he kept flying into buildings so it wasn't that cool and - "

"Nova! That's enough," bites Fury, spearing a glance at the excited boy who shrinks back, having forgot his place in excitement and settled back in his spot, ducking a slap from Rhino. Fury sighs, and looks over the four confused teens. "Nova's correct, you switched powers and it was because of this girl."

At the foot of the bed, around the metal dome that covers their feet, it throws up a projection of a faraway image of the Chinese girl, and Tempest flinches violently at the animosity on her face, of the violence that pools in the bed of her fingernails. "We're calling her Psyche; she has mind-control powers that delved you into your teammate's minds and switched powers, which coincided with what she wanted you to do, causing you to attack your teammates. Unfortunately, she got away but we'll find her. Thankfully, Spiderman was able to bring you all out of your new state of being."

Spiderman, ever modest, shrugs next to Dagger. "It's what I do."

Medical checks are performed as they sink in the information, and Squirrel Girl at Tempest's left pipes up when her vitals are being checked. "So...who was in whose head?"

"I was in Powerman's," says Tempest, flicking a gaze to the dark-haired teen two beds to her right whose eyes widen, but nonetheless, answers her silent question.

"I was in SG's."

"I was in Venom's," she concludes, and they spear a glance to Venom, at Tempest's right and the boy hesitates, the symbiote having already peeled away to reveal his features which harden. Tempest feels her own shoulders tighten when, in one swift move, the blond-haired boy throws his legs out of the bed, eyes downcast and strides towards her.

She's plunged into a broad chest, large arms wrapping around her protectively and she can see the confused faces behind her, and how subconsciously Nova dips forwards to stop her from being touched. She flinches away at first but he folds her back into his chest, Flash pressing his mouth into the crown of her hair. Wide-eyed, the dark-haired girl pats his arm, a silent way of saying 'let go'.

He pulls back, still keeping his hands on her shoulders and holding her at arm's length, lowering himself to be eye-level with her and with softness that's not his own shudders over his words, as if the other teenagers aren't in the room. "You need to tell someone, Tempest."

Then, as if he hadn't crossed a boundary that had been set in place for years, that he hadn't torn down a wall with just the touch of his fingers, he sits back down on his designated bed, arms crossed and eyes averted, cheeks heating in slight embarrassment, but otherwise, silent. Tempest shakes her head, humming prayers for the blond under her breath after what he may have seen.

At the edge of the group, Nova swings his arms, huffing a breath. "So...who wants to go to the cinema after this?"


	12. xii

**Hey wind-bearers, here's another chapter for you! It's mostly justa filler with a few Sam &Temp moments thrown in, but hey, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve**

The true method of

knowledge is experiment.

 ** _\- William Blake_**

* * *

With the energy of a child in the bounce of her knees, the curled fortress of her fingers, Tempest hung almost dangerously off of SG's bunk, Ava holding her back with an arm wreathed in gentle understanding, as Dagger digged in the hidden wardrobe at the foot of the bed that she shared with her, SG and Cloak.

Item after item was brought to light, held up to Dagger's - name bitten into shards and spitting out _Tandy Bowen_ in it's place - torso for inspection, almost all collecting a hum of disappointment and tossed over her shoulder into Ava's waiting arms, where they were folded and lain in organized piles. A pair of trousers is granted access and only then, does she turn around to place the item in Tempest's hands.

A sculpted brow lifts, eyeing the blond as she digs across multiple cloaks, "uh, no offense to you guys but, I don't see the point of why I can't just wear something I like," she haphazardly and unconsciously rolls the cuffs of the trousers to sit snugly around her ankles when she tries them on, "I don't see why there's a debate."

"Well, don't you _wanna_ look nice?"

Tempest hums her decision on her tongue. "Yeah, I guess."

"She means, don't you want her to dress you up," Ava clears, crossing her legs at the knee and pressing another soft hand to her shoulder, pulling her back from diving off the plush teeth of the bed when Tempest slides to look around her. When Tempest gives Tandy a glance, the girl shrugs playfully, tending to her closet again.

Another hum of approval slips from Tandy's feline teeth, and manicured claws - built for tearing at men and tending to girls rattled hearts - lets loose a shirt and jacket into Tempest's arms, sending her a playful order to change as she looks for shoes. Tempest, with a casted look to Ava who shrugs, does as she's told.

The jeans she wears are high-waisted - she knows because the buttons leave harsh indents on her stomach - and blue, ripped at the knees and she tucks the black tank top into the waistline, which Tandy pulls at to sit loosely over the hem. She shrugs on the sleeveless beige jacket, that falls in a waterfall design around her knees and when handed black, lace-up shoes that sit around her ankles, she shrugs them on and shakily stands to her feet

Ava, stood in front of her and admiring the clothes, dips forwards when the girl takes a step and falls slightly due to the heel on the underside of the shoes. Ava raises a brow, a small smile indenting itself into her cheeks when Tempest laughs, but turns to Tandy who holds a grey sweater to her chest. "Tand, I don't think she's gonna be able to walk in these, she's gonna trip."

"Nonsense, she walks on air everyday," comments the blond, who winks at the dark-haired girl as she tugs on the long sleeved, high-collar sweater. Playfulness leaks across her features as Tempest slides around the bunk room in her heels, plucking a scarf and winding it around her neck to stop her shivering, and she sends a look to Ava, nodding to her familiar green tunic. "Aren't you gonna change too? Parker's gonna be _extra_ happy if he see's you in something nice."

"Hey, I _like_ this!"

Tandy laughs as she digs out a black skirt and sashays it on, muttering under her breath _"so does Parker"_ as she pulls on the knee-high boots she enjoys.

Tempest, from across the room, becoming used to the new height she's reached, sends the two girls an innocent look. "So...where _are_ we going to that has to have us so dressed up?"

Understanding defeat winds itself like flowers into Ava's hair as she lets Tandy disappear back into her closet, and she turns back to Tempest, folding skilled arms across her chest. "We're meeting an old friend of ours for lunch, he's Parker's friend mostly though," nostalgia permeates the air subtly, tweaking Ava's soft lips into a remembrance smile that Tempest can only ever dreaming of clutching close, "Parker thinks he might have some information on you, to be honest."

Her words are carefully placed into the air, like blocks of honey-suckle cones but the softness in their taste does nothing to soften the landing when Tempest trips violently in surprise, biting shock into her veins as she hits the ground. "W-What?"

Ava dips forwards, picking the girl up and dusting off her slight fear of meeting someone not in her small circle of friends that she's already gathered. _I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner_ , weaves itself in broken notes across her tongue, the taste of betrayal making her taste buds sour, but Tandy bounces up behind her, shoving a cocktail dress and a polka-dotted wool coat into Ava's arms. "Yeah, his name's Harry Osborn - once heir and now CEO to Oscorp, in his dad's well, disappearance. Peter thinks he knows something about where you came from."

"And we're going to meet him? Right now?"

Tandy, for all her playfulness, can pluck the fear in Tempest's breath like butterflies wings and she softens around the edges, ghosting a hand across a shoulder that flinches with fear embedded into it's skeletal design. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Temp, but you would have worked yourself into a panic, but yes, right now. I haven't met him myself but I've been told he's great, amazing even. I _hope_ he is, I'm his date for this, even if I'm not into guys like that."

"He is," answers Ava as she pulls on the wool polka dot coat over the beige cocktail dress that sheds her midsection to the world in a cross, black heels clicking against the floor, and she plucks earrings and presses them skillfully into her ears. "He's _Parker's_ best friend - of course he's amazing."

"Then we better get bouncing, before we stretch this _amazingness_ too thin," remarks Tandy, threading bow-string arms though both of theirs, and giving Tempest a small shake to wake her to the world as they depart, sliding into one of the escape pods below the Triskellion. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. I don't know why you're so shell-shocked."

"It's not that, exactly," doe-eyes drip to laced up boots, and fingers twiddle nervously, tugging at the blue mask that she's tied expertly around her wrist, fingers pulling at the fabric like a coping mechanism. A sigh stains her lip, broken and haunted and it sends electricity down Tandy's bones, building ruin into the gaps in her spine, "I'm just...not good with remembering that stuff, and it flares up emotions and my emotions are dangerous. Also if you haven't noticed, I'm not the best with people."

Tandy snorts back a laugh and, with hesitation licking at her skin, folds the girl into a soft hug, pressing her chin to the top of her head and Tempest feels her body ripped back into when Flash had leaked into her innermost memories. The boy had looked haunted by what he'd found - did Tandy somehow, in her entire life, have been able to piece together what to do when someone's insecurities flared to the surface? Had she collected Cloak into her arms as he cracked like glass? Or had she learnt from those around her when she had done so?

"No, we've noticed," softness with no edge dips from her other side, where Ava angles her way into Tempest's eye line from where she's pressed delicately into Tandy's embrace, who seems to shake with a silent emotion that folds no smell that she can place, no name into existence and Tempest doesn't comment, "but look how far you've come, Temp. Two months ago, if Tand had even stepped in your airspace, you would have jumped and if I'd have touched you, even if it's just to stop you falling, you would've flinched. You're doing so well, and you can continue that. Whatever happened in the past, it doesn't define you anymore."

"Yeah," murmurs Tandy, smoothing back some loose dark tresses lovingly, and a fierce protectiveness - how long had it laid dormant in her design? - flares with a vengeance when she looks to the girl, pieced together with tainted fragments of a life lived in needles, "you're family now Tempest, _our_ family, and we stick together - through physical or mental need. Basically, you're stuck with us."

Fragility fabricates itself along her limbs with something akin to pride, and in a quick burst, she folds Tandy into her as well, and sniffles back her tears of happiness. Home circles her with soft eyes and even softer arms, home whispers that _it's okay, you don't have to freak out,_ and home blinks brown and blue eyes when they reach the surface and tug her out of the transport pod and onto dry land.

Tandy, now folded back into playfulness, drops an arm around the smaller planes of the shorter girl's shoulders, and leans back into normal conversation as if the touching moment in the pod hadn't occurred and Tempest hadn't felt more welcome than she had in four years to _anywhere_. Ava brushes Tandy's hand off of Tempest's shoulder and weaves her friends like thread through the underbelly of New York.

The restaurant that they're meant to meet Harry and whoever else is joining them is fancy, spilling elegance but modesty all at once, but it still ignites Tempest's bones with fear and the girls cart her into the restaurant, spilling polite smiles and _Osborn, it's under Osborn_ when they arrive. The waiter, a short man with a wide smile, pulls them towards a table and Tempest can already see the smiling face of Peter as Ava folds herself into his greeting embrace, chuckling a joke under his breath.

Tandy sweeps up towards a boy, not much older than her, and holds out a hand politely, pearly teeth on display over red lips and the boy grins. His angled jaw is sharp and his auburn hair is perfectly combed and he sits promptly in suit and tie, though Tempest can almost see the converse sneakers that are hidden beneath the table and the corner of his shirt poking out of his trousers. _Flaws in a perfect design,_ laments the brunette as Harry Osborn talks to the girl and brings Ava into a stolen hug, grinning cheekily over her shoulder to an annoyed Parker.

A soft nudge to her shoulder rattles Tempest out of her analyzing, and she jerks away, only to find a boyish grin and leaf-green eyes staring her down with amusement. Sam stands before her, and she stands closer to his height now in her heels, but still taller in a smart, navy blue suit with gold-painted cuff buttons and his ragged, bristled hair combed softly back and she realizes - he looks _handsome_.

"Sam? What are you doing here?"

Sam laughs, alerting Harry's attention, but he keeps his on Tempest. "I'm your date for this evening, I beat out Danny because we _all_ know I'm your favorite," he jokes, bowing jokingly to the brunette who fits laughter snugly into her chest whenever he's around and he juts out an elbow, green eyes mixing with something new that he's never reserved for her as his gaze slides down her clothes, "nice threads they suit you."

"I don't believe we've met," the voice is reserved for Tempest and she jumps in her skin slightly, turning to see blue-green eyes kindly watching her and she can see why Ava admires the boy who smiles for free, "I'm Harry Osborn, an old friend of these three."

His gaze pulls back up to her as it dips towards Peter, Ava and Sam, prompting her to speak and she stumbles over her words as they shake hands, snatching her own into her pockets when the greeting is over and if Harry notices, he says nothing. "I-I'm Tempest. New friend of these three," she nods her head back to the others, snorting when Sam pulls out an inconspicuous tongue at her, already pulling out a chair. Harry chuckles, nodding, and after pulling out a seat for Tandy, lowers himself into his own seat.

Tempest seats herself, thanking Sam - _also, Luke's my favorite_ \- and folds her hands into her lap, snorting when Sam smooths his shirt - _he's gotta be someone's_ \- and Parker and Harry talk animatedly. Idle chatter fills the table and when Tempest has trouble picking out french foods, Parker and Sam attend to her and order her food for her, laughing when she pronounces a word wrong. Harry, with every bit of kindness, offers to personally ask the chef for a simple meal for her but she declines politely.

The food arrives and finally, the balloon that had been filling with anticipation is popped as Parker lifts the pin. "Harry, you know me, man. I sorta had an ulterior motive to bringing you here today."

"You and Ava aren't getting married, are you? I'm _not_ being a bridesmaid; if anything I deserve the maid of honor," tentatively asks the boy, causing Tempest to choke on her drink in laughter, Tandy to cover her mouth to hide her snorts and Sam to almost slide of his chair with a booming, child-like laugh.

Parker turns red and Ava hides her face in her hands as her boyfriend shakes his head. "We're not getting married, don't worry, this isn't about us, this is actually about Tempest," Tempest raises a hand, signifying her presence whilst still trying to choke down a laugh into the hollow of her bones, earning a wink from Harry at the price of his joke. "We thought you could give us a bit of insight to something."

Harry rakes a hand through his carefully styled hair, and nods, sculpted cheekbones turning to razors as he frowns slightly at the serious tone that pierces his best friend's voice. "Yeah, okay, shoot."

"H-Have you ever heard of HAL?" questions Tempest, her voice soft on the wind as she beats Parker to the punch, and she flinches at the fear she's become old friends with. But her old friend disappears with the softest touch on her knee, where her hand rests and she looks down to find calloused fingers curling protectively into it. Looking up, Sam isn't looking at her but shoveling food into his mouth like normal and she bites back the smile as he blushes slightly, turning back to look at Harry.

The auburn haired boy furrowed his brow - and just a boy, hardly twenty one, with an empire on his shoulders - and sat straighter, bristling slightly. "N-No, I can't say I have."

"Would Oscorp have made any, I dunno, deposits or investments in it? Small things over the last," Parker looks to Tempest, who inconspicuously lays four fingers on the table, "four years, give or take, maybe."

Harry pauses, and lifts a finger before pulling out his phone, a thick, sleek design that he fumbled with and Tandy's eyes widened at the sight, mouthing a 'wow' towards Ava, who shrugged under her boyfriend's arm. Harry, without looking up, spoke. "Can you tell me what HAL stands for; that could probably narrow it down some."

"Human Alterations Laboratories," answers Sam automatically, pulling back up towards when Blind Spot had terrified Tempest so much that the girl, built from the fire she'd been tossed into, started to shake with uncontrollable sorrow and Sam's heart had constricted at the sight he'd almost thrown a Nova blast at the blind child. Even now, his hands tightened at the name and Tempest gave his hand a gentle squeeze. He ignores the looks the other three give him, confusion spilling into the void.

Suddenly, the CEO of Oscorp lifts his head, chewing into his bottom lip and looking up, blue-green eyes looking like a clawed-in sky, ripped apart, and Tempest seems to crack slightly at the hostility that replaces the warmth that had been present all evening. "HAL _was_ up and running a couple of years ago, Oscorp made monthly deposits back when dad was in charge," he bristles slightly at the memory of his father, and Tempest can smell the fear she's come to know so fondly leak from Harry, "it played in medical experiments, animals sometimes but they mostly took in people with abnormal sickness, hence the name, but something happened around four years ago, like you said, Pete. There was a disturbance and something happened that basically ruined all their research and that's where the trail ends. Dad must have stopped funding or they fell out of existence."

Tempest shudders in a breath, and Tandy's hand rubs against her arm and Harry spears her with a look as she tries to bite her breathing with ragged teeth into her punctured lungs as the 'disturbance' filters back into her mind in pieces - alarms shrieking, somebody screeching in pain and blood on her lip from where she'd dangerously brushed some glass - and she wants to thumb the scar at the corner of her mouth. Her fingers dip into the fabric of her mask around her wrist, something that had been tied around her upper arm when she'd left HAL, something that had always been there. Tranquility filters back into her dormant muscles and she smiles, letting the slightly worried expressions fade into relief along their cheekbones.

Harry shifts in his seat, sitting straighter as he watches the girl like a hawk. Of course, a boy taught to live would be wary of a girl who was taught to survive. "Is this a personal matter that we're dealing with?"

Even if hostility leaks into his voice, his body posture is open as he watches her and Tempest, with all her emotions tied to her heart in balloons, widens her smile. "It is, of a sort. I was a very sick child and I was just wondering what happened to the placed that fixed me," nobody but Sam notices when she clutches his fingers tighter around the word 'fixed' "i-is there anymore information you have?"

"No," says Harry, but determination flares in his rickety chest and he nods firmly, "but I'll find some, don't worry."

"Thank you," she murmurs and slides back into her shell of comfort, pulling her hands from Sam's and tossing him a smile, the information she'd been given being enough for now, glad that they hadn't sprung up across the world again, causing more chaos in their metallic footsteps. The atmosphere slides gently back into comfortability and Harry and Parker chatter about a redhead reporter that's somewhere in England and Ava sits between them, rolling her eyes playfully. Tandy picks at her food absently, and Sam pats a hand against Tempest's arm, understanding leaking into grass-green eyes.

When dinner ends at the end of the night, with little to no interruptions beside from Parker leaving for a long twenty minutes - _just going to the bathroom, be back in a bit_ \- and arriving out of breath with a smudge of dirt over his cheek and a news report on the radio playing loudly of Spiderman's adventures somewhere, they stand and walk towards the mouth of the restaurant, Harry pressing a card into the maitre D's hand, where he goes to retrieve the card checkbook.

As Tempest stands on her own, she feels a hand tap her shoulder and finds the auburn boy smiling at her. Softly, so the others can't see, Harry presses a card into her hand with a large, outlined 'O' circled in the middle. "I don't know what this HAL business is about," he murmurs against her ear, already knowing not to touch her, "but if you need anything, and I'm serious about _anything,_ you can call me and I'll pick up, Tempest."

"T-Thank you, Harry."

"Any friend of Pete's is a friend of mine," he answers, pulling back with a smile that would make the stars in Orion's belt whistle in appreciation and Tempest smiles shyly from such a star-lit sky. "I'll find this information that you need, don't worry."

"Tempest, we gotta go," calls Sam, as Parker pulls up a car and Harry shoves his hands into his pockets, a knowing look filling his expression as Sam dropped a warm jacket across her shivering shoulders. He hangs out a hand towards Harry, who gives it a firm shake with a blessed smile, hanging over Tempest's shoulder protectively as she stuffs the card into her pocket. "We'll see you around, Harry."

"We have to do this again, man," he answers, and Sam nods eagerly, looking down the Tempest to guide her towards the car as Tandy slides in with a squeal of how sweet the CEO of Oscorp is. "I'll see you later, Tempest. I'm sure of it."

Tempest, staring at the card, nods numbly at his kindness and falls into the car as Harry waves goodbye, the evening wearing down on her and she slides against Sam, feeling sleep pull at her eyes as he collects her snugly into his chest.


	13. xiii

**Happy Wednesday guys! Volatile time again. I hope you enjoy this one, even though it's sorta of a filler chapter but I just really wanted to put Coulson in there somewhere because the lack of stories with him even making a cameo in them is just insane!**

 **Plus, I may have some plans for the dude at around chapter nineteen or so, but hopefully, this chapter shows Tempest's progression from who she'd been months before. Enjoy, wind-bearers!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

A woman is like a tea bag -

you can't tell how strong

she is until you put her in hot water.

 **\- Eleanor Roosevelt**

* * *

For once, in the blazing crux of a fight, she laughed.

Her SHIELD training had banished any soft edges in her skeletal structure into razor-sharpened nails and tornado kicks as she swung her body like a brick into a no-handed round-house kick into the square jaw of Klaw, the silent villain dropping like a stone in water. She curled her fists, and a sickly sweet smile tugged at her lips, pocketing triumph in scarred skin.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, ran down the strong lines of her arms and her chest was fit to crack open and splay her ribs to the midnight air, but she'd never felt more alive. She drank in the exhaustion in her cheeks, the raggedness of her lungs and smiled as Klaw pulled up a metal twisted hand, ready to blast the dark-haired girl away when a lithe body crawled up his own from behind, a thick bushy tail pressing over his eye sight and sent a sonic wave of sound up into the sky, endlessly carrying on.

With a laugh, Squirrel Girl bounces off of Klaw, who trembles towards the edge. "Can it, sound hound! I can't even hear myself think," Squirrel Girl smiles brightly when Spiderman flies by, whipping past and congratulating her on the use of a joke, webbing Klaw to the ground where he kneels. The dark haired girl turns back to Tempest, and raises a thumbs-up, before pointing over her head, "there's your cue, sis!"

Squirrel Girl bounces off with the energy of a spring in her knees, tackling Thundra as she throws a punch towards Ka-Zar on the rooftop, and Tempest swings, turning to where the back of a video screen houses a floating purple and grey villain with a black visor wrapped around his eyes, dodging and swiping against Spiderman's punches. Tempest feels wobbly excitement take root in her stomach, the tendrils of it's being wrapping around her bones and she leaps, pressing against the air and taking flight as Spiderman is kicked off of the building.

She lands as softly as a cloud on the thin line of the video projector where Wizard is perched, and he turns with boredom striking every line of her body, but new found curiosity pulls his muscles into tense knots, and his head cocks as he regards the girl lighter than the air she holds in the palm of her hand. "Hmm," he hums, mirroring her low crouched stance, "you're new."

She drips with strength as she leaps forwards, kicking out to slam her ankle against his forearm, held up in defense and leaving her left side open, which he jabs at painfully, and she crinkles around the punch but otherwise, remains standing. She throws a hard jab to his stomach and immediately up into his jaw, using the air to push her further. He stumbles, but remains rooted to the edge of the screen.

Tempest growls slightly in her throat; the punch had been hard and he'd barely made a noise, but he straightened with regality sitting softly on his shoulders, and a smirk pulling at his mouth. Trepidation crawls hazily and gnaws at the edge of her spine, sending electric shocks towards her brain, which seems to spit fireworks at the spite that splits through his teeth. "I _know_ you."

Doe-eyes blink around her trepidation, and she rears forwards again, throwing a hard punch out that he catches with the grace of a dancer and harshly rears a knee upwards, sending it crashing into her elbow. She yelps loudly, and crumbles around the pain that bends at her bones and taking the chance, tugs at her curled fist and throws her off of the rooftop and towards the street below.

SHIELD training lights a fire in her heart and instantly, she pauses in mid-air, before rising higher until the dark haired girl is poised in front of Wizard in mid-air, who nods almost appreciatively, like snake regarding his prey. He taps against his chin, and lifts into the air to match her, a laugh spilling from his mouth like a waterfall. By his hips, his gloves crackle to light with an electric storm brewing in his palms. "The wind thief," he says, laughing as she folds careful concentration into her wrists like prayers, "I thought it was you. You've made quite a name for yourself in the underbelly of this city."

"I don't suppose you think that's a compliment?"

"I'd take it as one if I were you," he laments, shrugging a shoulder and ducking under a swipe of sharpened air aimed for one of them, and she mirrors the action when a wave of energy is sent barreling for her doe-skin heart, "not many people as yourself can be recognized so quickly in this city."

Silence permeates the air as the warrior that SHIELD and survival have built with an iron shell stays silent, even with questions lining her muscles like wallpaper. Tempest feels the power in her chest surge as she bites back the retort that worms it's way across her vocal chords, whispering to speak in place of a scream. Instead her hands push outwards and with calculated movements, throw Wizard soaring backwards just enough with a gust of sharp breath and in retaliation, he punches out towards her, scoring a punch to the stomach.

Pain blooms like wildflowers in stomach but she straightens and rings her skin with iron as she kicks out, placing the roar of the wind in her knuckles, against the elegant curve of bony elbows. The blows exchange and the kicks come one after another, until Tempest can taste copper on her tongue and the Wizard hardly resembles a man.

"I don't know why you fight so hard, child," he murmurs as she flips back away from him delicately across the paper thin body of the video screen, that broadcasts the Daily Bugle's theme tune, "you must know that you're not like them."

Between her skeletal ladder of a spine, befuddlement slips dark poison like a drug and it frays her nerves to ash, coating her tongue in resentment as the man continues to berate her, to beat her down with syllables and uttered words until confusion is synonymous with fear.

"You can't fool me, Wizard. Yes, I'm different but I'm as human as the rest of them, just like everyone else."

Hesitation clings like oil to his skin, his head tilting before suddenly, with the invisibility that she's only ever seen Blind Spot possess, Wizard is in front of her, grabbing her wrist and turning her to hold her tightly, so that she stares at him. The whiskered black hairs on his face lift as he smiles, almost excitedly. "My employer would be _very_ interested in a specimen such as yourself, but unfortunately, you're not the one we're after," she can see the vague outline of almond eyes slide to her side, catching on Spiderman as he flings around Klaw, twirling a web around his jerking body as Ka-zar sends well placed punch after punch to his face. Suddenly, she's turned and she no longer looks at Spiderman or Wizard, but she can feel his breath on her earlobe all the same. "But, you're not human like them, Tempest. Not even a little bit."

New life pulls and tweaks at her muscles, quivering and shaking under the sleeves of her uniform and fury brushes gentle fingers over her veins, tenderly and softly as if afraid to ignite more fire on her tongue. A grunt of pain can be heard and Ka-Zar dips off the side of the building and although her muscles scream at her to run and _catch him, catch him now_ \- legs that aren't her own kick off the ground, pushing her over the Wizard's head and pulling his arms behind him.

The action tweaks at his bones and he yells in pain as she kicks his legs out from under him, and he falls off of the side of the video screen, as a large face lights up the screen. But she pays no attention, as her hands that grip his wrists clench angrily around the metal gloves as they charge to blast her, crumbling the metal to broken ruts in her hands. Her eyes narrow as the wind carries the fear in his chest and circles her body, humming in her ear _no, don't do this_. But understanding is not her friend tonight as she bites on her sympathy.

"You don't know what I'm like," and her hands let go.

He doesn't die, he doesn't even fall a few feet before Spiderman is swinging around and grabbing the villain by a naked wrist and flinging him into the pile of his fallen team, and Squirrel Girl drags Ka-zar up the side of the building back to safety and Tempest hangs over the edge of the world wondering how human was she to throw someone off a building.

" _Tonight, on the Daily Bugle, instead of the usual report, we've just witnessed an almost devastating turn of events in the name of 'hero' right here in New York which you're about to witness,_ " a brittle voice, undertoned with anger can be heard rumbling beneath her feet and Tempest's eyes drip downwards to where J. Jonah Jameson sits, rigid and narrow eyed with a small square in the corner of the screen. The video, a repeat turn, shows Tempest hanging over the edge of the video screen, practically swinging the Wizard above his own demise like a doll and it shows her dropping him, before rolling up like a ball and replaying over and over again.

" _Right here, on_ my _property, on the_ Daily Bugle's _property - this so called 'hero' practically tried to murder someone on purpose. It's not a surprise to me, my fellow New Yorkers, since this girl seems to be accepted in the menace known as Spiderman's little glee club,_ " his voice bubbles into anger, and she can see the pixels of his hand slam down onto the desk, spraying paper and coffee and spiteful words as her body trembles, " _the kid's probably learned from the example of Spiderman, and it's not her fault, but if blood has been spilled then it's blood that New York will_ get!"

Her eyes spread outwards, towards the concrete canyons of New York and just beneath her curling toes, an army of angry people gathers, fists in the air and screaming for blood that isn't theirs to shed. Tempest's hands curl shakily across her mouth, smothering the pained choke of air that bursts inside her lungs and vaguely hears J. Jonah Jameson scream at her through the camera on the helicopter that swirls around her. She can't breath and her fingers are shaking and her legs are threatening to give out beneath her and _this isn't me, I wouldn't do that, he's lying, I'm not a bad person right?_

But the focus on her is swapped for Spiderman as the wallcrawler swings forwards, grasping onto the helicopter that swings with the slight new weight and yells at J. Jonah Jameson through the screen. Any limelight reserved for Tempest is swept to the boy, and she can feel someone's arm winding across her shoulder and Ka-zar is whispering in her ear, trying to sweep her back towards the Triskellion but she brushes him off.

Her arm swipes across her own face, tugging at the blue mask and the tears that have marked it. She sniffles and the muddied face of a little girl, hidden in a hurricane and SHIELD training stares up at him, wondering how much human is worth to her. "T-tell Spidey that w-Wizard was paid to go after him; somebody's l-looking for him. I've gotta go."

Then, with the grace that the wind has granted her, Tempest's body turns slack and she falls off the building like a rag doll, until the wind catches on the butterfly wings of her fingers and she shoots into the air.

* * *

He hadn't expected to find her just _staring_ at the punching bag when he'd walked in. Tired, green eyes peer inquisitively at the dark haired girl, who stands in a black vest, black leggings with no shoes or mask to hide her identity from the world. Contrary to the naked eye, the SHIELD agent can see the hurried breaths of her chest rise up and down and she's a world away when he speaks.

"Tempest?"

She jumps like a child in the dark, and turns, red-ringed eyes and the softest watery smile. He bounces on his toes, awkward around crying adolescents. "Coulson; what are you doing here?"

"The gym _is_ open to every SHIELD operative in the vicinity," he teases gently, pulling the jacket from his shoulders as he walks towards the other end of the room and he cracks his knuckles, sending the girl flinching and an apologetic look is sent her way as he moves to pull out the treadmills. But he pauses, hand hovering above the recognition pad, and turns to look at her. "The better question however, is what are _you_ doing here? You're meant to be on patrol."

"Would you believe me if I told you I skipped out?"

"No."

"Not even for a date?"

"You hardly leave the Triskellion, let alone meet anyone," he revels in the small victory of pulling her lips upwards into an amused smile, but it still tugs at the tear-tracks on her cheeks. She swings her hands idly, clenching and unclenching as she spears the punching bag with an iron glare, "so are you going to punch that bag or not?"

"I don't know," she murmurs, lost in her own mind as she narrows her eyes, pursing her lips and she sighs shakily, as if she no longer controls the wind in her lungs long enough to breathe, "I don't seem to know anything anymore, if I'm honest."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, If I'm angry or sad right now," she chokes out, the dust in her lungs making the words taste bitter in her mouth. In her rage, she hadn't seen the fear that had crawled up the Wizard's throat as he swung, a human pendulum, in front of the Daily Bugle video screen. Her rage had consumed her like fire, licked at her skin as she sent a man crumbling - bad or good. But it's the sorrow that winds it's arms around her waist like a child, seeking comfort and warmth from her, and she almost collects it into her arms like an old friend, that allows her to take comfort in her tears.

Coulson arches a brow, as she rakes a hand - shaking like the autumn leaves she's piled out of, a season raging war in her body - through her hair as she breathes the air she commands. "Tempest," he mutters, arms slotting behind his back and a soldier built from vintage captain america cards and fierce loyalty rests a careful arm over his shoulder, a man split between friend and agent. "I-I'm not good with talking to children."

A soft laugh pulls from between her draw-string lips. "Aren't you undercover as a school principal?"

" _Was._ I _was,_ but listen," he says and he strides towards her, pausing when she flinches at the sudden movement and hesitantly, sits a hand on her mess of hair, smoothing away some creases in her design, "I'm not good with children, but through my time as an agent with SHIELD and dealing with Spiderman and his team, I've realized that teenagers go through a lot of mixed up emotions - I should know, I _was_ one. But, sometimes, you don't know what to do with these emotions and -"

"Are you giving me the birds and the bees talk, because I found that out the hard way."

Red blooms slightly on the man's cheeks and he straightens himself, narrowing a glare at the dark-haired girl when she smirks; and it's only subtle when he see's the sudden transformation in her being but it's still there. Tempest was a shell of a girl when she'd skittered through the doors of the training room months before, but as the months had grown, so had she. Nova's smirk sits on her cheeks, Iron Fist's peaceful eyes rest behind her lashes and Dagger's confident stance sits ingrained into her spinal cord. Cloak's introversion sits in the square of her hunched shoulders, Spiderman's joking voice slips between vocal chords. She's built from her friends, built from SHIELD and Coulson can only imagine how much farther she has to go until she starts putting her own bricks into her skin.

He shakes his head, humming an annoyed tone which makes her giggle slightly, though the sorrow still sits in the bend of her shaking knees. " _No,_ that's not my place, but thank _god_. I was going to say, you don't know what to do with these emotions, and that's perfectly okay," he answers, watching as all joking and confidence slips gossamer between her fingers, and her jaw slackens slightly, lips parting to move around dead words, "you won't believe how many kids I've had come to me, here _and_ at Midtown, because they don't know what to do with themselves. But it's fine, you don't have to decide right now what you want to feel or what you want to do. Just do whatever feels right."

A dark head of hair tilts, dark eyebrows scrunching to create a ball of wariness as she analyzes any lies or concave hopes in his words - but her hands come away empty, filled with nothing but _it's okay, you don't have to decide right now_. Her veins charge with adrenaline at the new possibility, at the new life that files itself between the teeth of her rib cage and suddenly, Tempest spins, her fist flying and punches hard into the sack body of the punching bag. It sways slightly, and though she berates her muscles for not being bigger or stronger, she grins at Coulson who nods at her.

"That's what you deem right, then?"

"I dunno, it _felt_ right."

A good-natured chuckle tugs at his chest, and Coulson turns, looking over his shoulder at the girl who stares back at the punching bag, ready to sling another curled hand of rage into it's bruised body when he slips on padded gloves. "You know, there's also something else I've learned," he says as he approaches her again with foreign mischief placed precariously on the edge of his teeth as he smiles, lifting his padded hands as he takes a stance, "taking your rage out on something that can fight back is even better."

Tempest smiles widely, a mega-watt smile, and sweeps forwards, throwing out a punch. This goes on for a while before something blared from the corner of the room, Tempest flinching and Coulson instantly dropping the padded gloves, stance shifting predatory.

But her laugh echoed around the room and all the pent-up rage that had slit it's teeth in her doe-skin heart had bled out and as she recognized the tune - _Sam needs to leave my phone alone_ \- she bounced towards the corner of the room and swiping up the literal screaming device, threw a finger across the screen and pressed the phone to her ear. "Hey Harry," she answers cheerfully, hand slotting onto her hip and Coulson pulls the padded gloves from his hands, wringing the slight throb of pain from there. "Yeah, _r-really?_ O-Okay, I'll be there in about an hour? I gotta take a shower, but thank you, Harry. I mean it, really. Okay, bye."

"You gotta date, kid?" Coulson calls playfully, as he readies the treadmill again, and other agents slip into the room for exercise, as Tempest walks past, bouncing on her toes and the girl only spears him a glance, placing a finger to her nose and tapping it. Coulson, used to secrets being pressed into his palm feels curiosity tweak at his chest but nevertheless remains stoic. "Fine, but be careful."

"Am I never?" she answers back teasingly, throwing him a mock-salute as she moves to walk out of the gym, but she only reaches the door when she turns around and suddenly, Coulson's being thrown back a few steps as Tempest's arms wind around his middle, entrapping him in her embrace. She pulls back quickly, but the victory is enough for him. "Thank you."

He stays rooted to the spot for a moment after she's gone, then barks at the agents gawking to do whatever they'd come to do, and he swipes a hand through his hair, the friend disappeared with the agent in his place. But he wonders, if she's built from SHIELD, then maybe his determination had been slipped into the scutes of her elbows, and he wanders away towards the treadmills again.


	14. xiv

**Chapter Fourteen**

Fathom how hearts

are made of china -

watch how quickly she breaks.

 _ **\- unknown**_

* * *

The imposing structure of the Oscorp building had never looked more intimidating, and her body trembled at the sight when she pushed through the doors. For so late at night, she hadn't expected any life to reside in the wide foyer but a bright-eyed girl, not much older than her, blinked up from her computer screen and gave her a sleepy smile. "Yes, can I help you?"

Hesitation slathers a thick paste across her words, dark brows twitching downwards as she folds herself into something that commanded attention, something other than the little girl beneath her skin. "Y-Yes, Mr Osborn requested to see me. H-Harry Osborn, that is."

A practiced, patient smile curls across bubble-gum lips and the girl nods. "Yes, he did say something about a late arrival a while ago. Miss Tempest, I believe? Yes, if you go to the elevator and ride to the top floor, his office is up there," a manicured finger points out the slip of metal square that resides in the wall across the room and Tempest nods a timid head. She jogs towards the elevator and tosses a wide-smile thank you over her rounded shoulders, and the girl waves back, tucking her life back into her bag to leave.

Tempest slips, like a piece of wind, into the elevator and quietly slumps against the reflectors on the wall as the red, blinking number climbs higher and higher, just like her breath. Her hand presses through her hair - a nervous habit really, that Flash had bitten at her to _stop tugging your damn hair_ \- and she folds it around her fingers, threading it like the fear that presses through the teeth of her ribcage. The fear from Harry's words scared her, though she pretended she'd shoved them deep through the crevices of her bumping collarbones, and she felt her seated heart knock against the splintered teeth that crossed over her chest like a treasure lock.

It tugged and pulled and _grew_ , like a weed, in her veins as she replayed the careful picked words Harry had spoken to her over the phone, soft words meant to calm her and to tell her _I've got something, get here as soon as you can_. She held her strength in her hands and they shook as she wondered if he'd unraveled her mystery, if he'd found out who she was.

She'd entertained the idea of him figuring out, connecting her name and her body structure and her voice to the vigilante Tempest, and the fear exploded in her chest once again. She pressed it back into her bones, tucking it away for another day's horror, and bit back the twitching of her fingers, the bounce of her knees and she carefully combed back her hair in the mirrors that surrounded her. In every reflection, she crumpled slightly, excited and petrified in an opus of emotion.

Suddenly, she's pulled from her analysis of herself, and she tweaks at the white turtle neck around her throat, picking at the fluff and glides forwards out of the elevator, the personification of elegance but inside, she feels raw as the possibility of her past is wrenched from it's cocoon.

In front of her, the large double door slides open and out pokes a curious mess of auburn hair and blue-green eyes like a child and the smile is loud across his features as he throws open the door, stepping out into the long hallway, his suit sharp and professional, besides from the slightly crooked tie and converse shoes. Her anxiety dampens as he curls a friendly arm around her shoulders, and he pulls her into the warmth of the wide office.

"Tempest - you look absolutely terrified," he jokes as he brings her to a long, semi-circle couch with a long black coffee table, synonymous with the entire design of the room. Green and black; something that seems personal to Harry as he drops low into the seat beside her. "Do you want a drink? Calm the nerves a little before we get to business."

"I-I wouldn't mind," she answers, scrubbing the warmth back into her hands by raking them down her jeans, huffing her fear into the open and away from her shredded lungs. Harry stands and crosses the room once again, plucking the long neck of a glass bottle - symbiotic to her own fragility - and two glasses, dragging them back over to the large couch and pouring her a drink. The liquid is cool, and she raises an eyebrow at the auburn brunette. "Er, Harry, I don't know how old you think I am, but I'm only sixteen."

"And I'm only eighteen, but age never really stopped anyone, did it," he answers, spearing her with a raised brow and putting the glass to his mouth. She rolls her eyes playfully, but nonetheless, follows suit. She coughs around the burn of the liquid when it smacks the back of her throat, thick and sweet, but the stinging sensation in her nose filters away to bubbles and she sighs around the blessed tranquility that smothers her jumping nerves back into their rightful slots. Harry, beside her, smiles and pulls the drink from her hands, laughing when she sways after she finishes the glass of wine. "God, Temp, you're a light weight, aren't you? Bet that calmed your nerves."

"Hush, I've never really had wine so I never got to build up a tolerance," she jokes, giggling around the tickle in the base of her throat and she settles into comfortability in the room - something that the harsh and jagged lines of the hand-me-down office should have bitten to shreds. Harry smiles, and places the glass further away from her.

"I can tell; so, we both know this isn't a personal call," he murmurs, and the atmosphere shifts slightly around them and Tempest's back straightens with violin strings as she's called to attention, like a soldier, as Harry dips forwards to retrieve a slim black tablet from the coffee table, screen lighting up as he presses his thumb into the recognition pad and it brightens with scrolls of information and Tempest's eyes widen. The ghosts that had laid dormant in the pockets of her skin scream for release - it has been so long since they've broken through to see the light.

She forces the demons back towards their rightful perches, ready to face them another day, but now, she needs to know. Harry's hand spreads wide across certain articles he finds, fingers flicking upwards towards the top of the tablet and somehow, a circle grows in light in the middle of the coffee table and a square of green, holographic light flares up, throwing the information from the tablet up for the world to see.

Choking back sensitivities and terror, Tempest pulls herself to her feet and tilts her head, reading about massacres, fires, _children with sicknesses_ \- and the memories of a life once lived, of scorched memories stamped into the ground flare up and she wobbles on her feet. But a steady hand sits against her waist, and she blames the wine when her eyes burn and water. "This is what I found about HAL."

"A-All of it? This is what HAL -"

"Yeah, the laboratories were meant to shoot human development and disease intelligence years into the future, but unfortunately, a few of their labs went rogue a few years back," remarks Harry, and his hands dip to flick another article of information up into the hologram, and he slides his hands through to pluck it from the green-lit sky and like a puppet, Tempest slides her own hands around it to scan across the information. "Oscorp sells from bread to biological enhancement, but Dad stopped funding them when he found out about this because he didn't want his company to be associated with such horrible things. But it seems, that HAL, was more about enhancing certain abilities then fixing them."

She flinches at his words when she feels the paper-thin sheet of ice scratch along her cheekbones and with a tentative glance, she can see him watching her like a hawk, eyes piercing the back of her head as she reads. She darts them back down, reading over the multitude of deaths that had occurred on the day of the escape.

She remembered the day as clearly as she remembered her mother's eyes and her father's gentle hands; how the world seemed to crack down the middle when she punched through the doors, when her mouth tasted copper and how she fell and screamed and cried with relief when she was finally alone, alone on her own terms.

"You alright? This might be a little too much for you."

 _He really is amazing._ "No, it's...it's just I could never imagine. What happened to them after this?"

Harry's soft twitch of a smile rolls and flattens, like piece of untended land, into a frown. His eyes drip upwards towards the holographic information and sighs. "That's what's got me stumped. They seemed to just...disappear off the face of the earth. Yeah, dad stopped funding their projects, but," his head tilts, perfectly styled hair slipping from it's perch and somehow, as he ghosts his hands along dusted information, a nostalgic smile tugs at his mouth. She hadn't been spared of the Goblin's news and his origins, that much was true. "Still, there should still be some record of their development in these newspaper articles."

News paper articles? "Harry, how deep d-did you search?"

Innocence clouds his blue-green eyes and even if, bred by a lifetime of watching his back, she can still see the suspicion in them, he smiles. "As deep as I could; past Oscorp and whatever else got in my way. I told you, a friend of Pete's is a friend of mine."

She blinks away her confusion when the auburn-haired boy tugs her under his arm with a soft hug and though she isn't one for contact, she presses into his chest gently, easily comfortable. He plucks the information from between her hands, and places it back into the green square of light. His hand drops from around her shoulders and dives down to the coffee table once more, retracting the light from the small circle and letting the room take it's natural light again.

But the uncharacteristic frown tugs at his mouth again and his stance changes. Something rigid and stiff slithers beneath Harry's skin like a snake, locking his bones into mechanical and robotic moves as he taps and prods at the screen, as if he's suddenly remembered something. The atmosphere shifts when the screen throws up information that looks out of place, that looks strange and speaks nothing of HAL.

"And this," he says, and the coldness that coats his speech makes Tempest flinch back, "is what I found on _you_." Her brows, down-turned and broken like the remnants of a city long gone, lift in shock as news articles, clippings, images of her in action, as _Tempest the hero_ , decorate the screen like a hall of _I know who you are_. She chokes around the fear that clings to her throat with iron claws, and she slips back from Harry when he laughs, humorlessly and devoid of the warmth he usually held. Borrowed anger slips like velvet between his clenched hands when he glares down at her.

"H-Harry, this isn't - "

"Isn't _what?_ I mean, I noticed the night I met you, you have same name as the newest hero on _Spiderman's_ team," he hisses Spiderman's name as he stands, staring down at her with long-brewed anger coating his skin and she flinches back into the well-practiced manner of a scared child. She murmurs about leaving, talking to him when he's thinking more rationally and as she moves to slide past him, he darts a hand out, grasping her wrist.

"P-Please Harry, this isn't what - "

"No, you're gonna listen to me, _Tempest,_ " the same venom that had coated Spiderman's name on harry tongue curls like crinkled and yellowed history pages around her, and she crumbles underneath him like broken bricks, and she can feel her need to get away welling up. She can feel the familiar burn in her chest and she desperately tugs at her wrist. "Spiderman took my Dad away from me; he ruined _everything_ my Dad worked for. So, it's more than a coincidence you showing up here, after he's been trying to get me to forgive him for what he did to me for years, as you can probably tell."

"Harry, I'm really not -"

"Don't _lie_ to me!" he bellows, his hand curling tighter around her wrist and if he see's the tears in her eyes, he doesn't cry. The borrowed anger from his father lights in his chest, burning a campfire in his dormant bones as he shakes her and she stifles her sobs. "Don't freaking lie to me; you look exactly like her, you act like her. I know you're Tempest, but don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you. It'd be far too messy, but what I want is for you to give Spiderman a message for me."

She shakes under him like a leaf when he leans down towards her, hand slipping like his anger from her wrist like a susurrus of leaves in the fall, limp and soft and she pads backwards away from him. She can see his shoulders droop, the rage sitting on them having slipped like gossamer in his hands. But the sharp down-turn of his once soft eyebrows, or the sharp angles of his cheekbones sends her slipping away, nodding solemnly.

He kisses his teeth and turns, and she wonders if she accidentally let a tornado loose in the office, when she can see it swirl like a monster beneath his skin, knotting his veins angrily in his fingers as they clench. Her hand slides against the handle, ready to leave the destruction to mend itself when he speaks up, voice softer. "And Tempest, stay away from Peter. I don't want him mixed up in any of this."

She swallows around the cacophony of words in her throat, pats them down and nods, eyes wide and staring at the ground. Desperate apologies taste sour on her tongue, but she sighs around them and pushes through the door, into a much calmer world than in the eye of the tornado known as Harold Osborn.


	15. xv

**Oh my gosh, this is the longest chapter I've ever written - it's word count is 5,689 _alone_! That's freaking astounding to me. Oh yeah - surprise, sudden chapter! I hope you guys like this one, we get a little insight to Tempest as well as a few Tempest  & Nova bits. Gotta think of a name for them at some point as well. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter fifteen**

Sometimes you have to confront

your demons and sometimes even

let them loose to genuinely

find a place where you can gain some understanding.

 _ **\- Peter Mullan**_

* * *

"Perhaps we should consult Doctor Strange on this phenomenon," commented Iron Fist as he accompanied Tempest and Powerman to training, arms swinging nonchalantly by his sides as he turned towards the dark-haired girl. Her hands deftly retied the knot on her mask, and she peered up under a dark strand of hair curiously. "His input would be much appreciated on this matter."

Tempest hummed in response, though hesitation scuffed itself into the tense bend of her shoulders at the title of the astral wizard. Doctors had never truly been kind to her, in hindsight, so she wishes for forgiveness to warm her bones. "A-Are you sure, Danny? I mean, we wouldn't want to bother him with anything if he's busy."

A grin cracks on Iron Fist's cheeks at the innocent view and he nudges her shoulder gently, softly, as not to disturb the demons that writhed under her skin and screeched at contact. "That is very kind, but the doctor would not mind harmless intruders upon his home. _I_ should know, Spiderman concludes I intrude most days."

"Do I sense some sarcastic malice there, Danny?"

"Senses can be fooled quite easily."

Beside Tempest, Powerman snorts, raising his powerful arms to rest behind his head. "Spiderman 'concludes' about a lot of stuff. Which reminds me, I owe him a smack-down in training today."

The trio comment and talk, vowing to ask permission to leave after class as they make their way to the training room. They shuffle in, quiet and tired from a resounding lecture from the Whizzer on hero history, and Luke practically slumps against Dagger when she laughs and collects him into her arms like an old friend. Beside her are Venom and Nova, devoid of Cloak's presence when Iron Fist steals him to ask for transport and perhaps support. The introvert nods gently, and drifts back towards Dagger, whose swatting at Powerman playfully.

Suddenly, Tempest is slumped downwards momentarily by a large weight, and peers upwards to find Venom - or perhaps Flash - peer down at her with a coercing grin towards her. Her brow raises suspiciously as he tugs her over towards them. "Tempest, babe, you gotta help me out here. _Nova-dork_ here thinks that Stormraiders is better than Terra Mega three, like, yeah _right._ Help me knock him down a peg."

"That's because it is!"

"Nova-dork? _Really,_ Flash?" both teens peer at the blond, and she turns to Nova and slowly, arches a brow in slight surprise. His cheeks are flushed, roses blooming on dark skin under the black cosmic helmet he wears, and she can see the tenseness in his arms as his eyes flash behind the reflectors of his helmet. His eyes darted from Flash's arm around her shoulders to Tempest's face and he seemed to relax when she stepped out of the friendly hold to grasp his arm, whilst Flash bounces off towards Ka-Zar. "You alright, sparky?"

"Me? Yeah, totally, I'm just hyped for this training session - been waiting all week," he answers, his trade-mark grin sliding onto his face, familiar and warm and she mirrors it. Though suspicion still curls under her nails, begging to scratch along his skin to see if they're true. But she lets it leave her lungs in one long breath and settles back into the comfortable stance she takes when in Nova's presence.

Sudden shyness pulls and frays every line of his body however, when he lifts a hand to scratch awkwardly across his chest and his eyes dart away from her. But the same grin, easy and friendly, sits on his mouth when she captures his gaze again on instinct. "So, hey, I was just wondering - "

"Class is in session, kids!" various indignant shouts pull up at the Black Widow's teasing assessment and class molds itself into normalcy under her guidance on how to avoid flying projectiles. But Tempest's mind is a cacophony of unfurling webs, where she burrows through the expanse of adventure laced into her spine from her most recent meditative session with Danny, readying himself to become Iron Fist once again. Luke had joined them, bare without his sunglasses and she'd sunk, her toes on edge, into meditation and further into her memories.

The practices had made her a novice at best, but still she plowed through the barrier that greeted her and was plunged back into another strange memory that was foreign to her skin. The same room, dark and coiled with rancid emotions and shortness of breath, something strange that never happens to the wind thief, was a normalcy in these ruins. The water had climbed around her body, trapping her in an icy embrace and she was left to watch, to ponder this world once again.

But a shape, bleary and distorted by the vibrations of the water stopped in front of her. She could see dark skin, and even darker eyes surrounded by thick black curls - a woman, with a broken smile held in her hands as she stared at the small girl. Her hand had tapped once, twice, three times on the glass and her eyes had shifted towards her. Faint, mild shock pulled at a puppeteer mouth, taught to smile on cue and frown in tragedy, and her head tilted, marveling at Tempest's stationary form.

Her mouth had began moving, the decibels hardly piercing the water until she pushed closer, almost pressed to the glass and Tempest could see the shape of her mouth sounding words she hadn't been taught about. The memory fractured, shattering in her hands just as the woman's voice, shaken and hysterical, pierced her ears. _"Hold your breath."_ She'd rocketed out of the trance once again, spitting water into the ground that hadn't been there before. Luke had jumped at the violent lurch of her body and Tempest had sucked the air greedily back into her chest, folding her ruin into her chest when tears pierced her eyes.

The phenomenon had sunk into her skin, replaying like a broken record whenever she sunk into her memories. Even with Danny's gentle guidance, calming her inner turmoil, she always jumped out of the strange experience with water in her lungs. Walking destruction sits in her skin at the feelings that encircle the memories that she doesn't remember having. She wants them _gone_ \- but they just won't stop howling in her ears.

She's snapped back into reality when she mechanically dodges a flying disc that explodes just past her face. Her heart lurches angrily into her throat, thumping with new life at the near-miss. Black Widow berates her for her lack of focus and turns to assess Tiger and Rhino, who rampage and fly across the walls and ground like they were made for this world. Perhaps they were.

"Brown eyes, you okay? You zoned out on us there," comments Nova when she flings into the air beside him, punching out and shattering a disc with a glowing fist of nova energy. Tempest spins, content in the air, and kicks a disc away, smashing on the wall.

"I'm fine Sparky, just thinking about things."

Pressed to her back, Nova coughs around his words. "Y-Yeah well, I kinda wanted to talk to you. I tried to ask earlier and -"

"What? Can't hear you," she yells back, scattering the sleek body of a ball of machinery across the ground, dipping under Spiderman's frame to miss a split kick to another. She arches a brow at Nova who sighs, shaking his head.

"I'll talk to you after class!" she nods back her understanding, and smiles when she vaguely hears a _'great people skills, bucket-head.'_ From somewhere else, she see's a flash of blue light and a scorch mark where Spiderman had been stuck too.

The lesson draws to a close, and they slump off to either their designated rooms or to any activities they want to finish whilst Tempest, Iron Fist, Powerman and Cloak clump together as they near the entrance. They slide over the threshold, murmuring about scattered nothings and what to expect when they reach Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum, when Tempest catches sight of messy, raven hair and a wide smile.

She excuses herself for a moment as the others continue towards the yawn of the building towards the outside world and bounces towards Nova, the excess adrenaline from the fight having still not seeped from her soon weary muscles. Nova chuckles animatedly at the comfortability that shrouds her entire existence in such a metallic and stoic place. He tucks the black helmet under his arm as she shifts onto one hip, staring up at him for confirmation.

"So what _were_ you trying to say, Sparky?"

"Yeah, actually it's not that important, I was just about to go see a movie and I was wondering if you wanted to come with me, since you never really got too," something innocent and gentle nips at his heels, something that he doesn't show to the world and Tempest feels slight affection brace itself against her chest at the sight of darting eyes and twitching fingers on a boy built from constellations, picking the galaxies from beneath his fingernails in nervousness. Her smile is kind and her arms wind around his waist gently, pressing her head under his chin.

He stiffens out of instinct, but relaxes into the hold, reveling in another small victory to bite back at the practiced art of the silent child that swims in her veins. Even if she pulls back after seconds, it's still a few seconds longer and it calms his nerves more than any training session ever could. She chews into her bottom lip however, and he can see the guilt rattle behind her teeth. "Sorry, Sparky, I've sort of got a thing I've gotta go to now with PM, Fist and Cloak. You can come with us if you want..."

The invitation is open, but Nova's already excusing himself and running a hand through his hair, "nah, still got that movie. I'll catch up though if I can, no worries. Have fun."

She tosses him a wave over her shoulder, sprinting up towards the three that wait at the edge of the building and with less than a blink, Cloak folds them under his, well, cloak and the world blinks out of focus. Suddenly, they're placed in front of a derelict building and Tempest sneers disdainfully.

"Um, are you sure this is -"

"This _is_ the Doctor's sanctum. Eyes do not see what the soul can feel," answers Iron Fist in mild amusement as Powerman's scrunched features even out at the proverb that the fortune cookie is known for and even Cloak shrugs his shoulders. But the blond leans forwards, sliding a hand to press against one of the boarded windows when instead, his hand comes in contact with the craned, rock skull of a stone dragon. The derelict building transforms into a three-story mansion, decorated with thick, polished stone and wide doorways.

Tempest's mouth slackens slightly at the sight, only to be gently nudged into place by Cloak who shuffles away from the half-playful look he's sent, shyness clutching him in an iron grip. Turning back, she can see the smirk that begs for release on Iron Fist's mouth. "Okay then, lead the way."

The hallway they enter is dark and long, until all four are pushed over the threshold by an invisible force and the door slams closed behind them, causing the dark-haired girl to shriek. She's placed in front of Powerman and nudged forwards when the lights that decorate the long hall flash, to reveal the lone figure that walks the hall. Fright winds like thread across her veins at the sudden appearance of the broad-shouldered man, in a red vest embroidered with yellow trimming over a white, long sleeved shirt, paired with thick black pants. His black hair is tied neatly at the nape of his neck, strands loosely escaping over his narrowed eyes but the smile that plays on his mouth is kind.

"Daniel, nice of you to visit my sanctum, it's always a pleasure," he remarks, and his stance shifts, from his chin perched on his curled fist, to lift his head to peer around the blond who shrugs off his mask comfortably in greeting, and tugs it back on moments after. Tempest feels her eyes circle at the ease he feels around this man who breathes power she could only dream of possessing, and he laughs gently. "It seems you have also bought some friends - the little one looks particularly frightened."

She blinks shyly, a soft smile perching on her mouth and Powerman ruffles a hand through her hair as Iron Fist slides aside, hooking an arm delicately around her shoulders and presenting her to the sorcerer supreme. " _Namaste_ , Doctor. This is Tempest, a friend of ours and on our team, please forgive her docile nature, she's quite scared of new people. However, unfortunately, this visit is not a social one."

The sorcerer tutted. "It never truly is," he answered, and turned back to the cowering girl, who sunk further into Iron Fist, chin turning into her chest like a child scorned and luckily, the sorcerer had experience with the fear that accompanied the things that go bump in the night. With a kind hand, he held it out towards her in greeting. "You need not be afraid in my home, Tempest. You are safe here and none will hurt you."

She blinked in confusion, innocence clouding the fear that had coiled in chocolate-melted eyes and slowly slipped her hand into his, even if trepidation scorched her drawn heart. "T-Thank you, for understanding. I'm glad to be here."

He arches a brow gently and pulls his hand out of the shake opening his arms to the rest of the hallway and addressing the entire group. "Follow me to the inner room - there, we can talk about whatever is troubling you more openly."

The group moves, gazing at the artifacts that litter the hallway until a door flings open, inviting them into a warm and circular room. A thick fireplace sits pressed to the wall, with a large armchair in front of it, which Powerman claims instantly like a predator whilst Cloak tip-toes towards the side, gingerly sitting himself on the arm rest. In the middle of the room, a glass ball - the Orb of Agamotto - lights up on arrival, flinging the circle of light embedded into it's body towards the sorcerer's hand when he places it affectionately on top.

Turning towards Tempest and Iron Fist, who is pulling on Tempest's arm as she curiously goes to poke a plant that spits fire at her feet when she comes close, he raises a brow. "So, what is this visit about, my friends?"

The atmosphere turns stale, ice clinging at the corners and Tempest visibly stills, hand scratching along the expanse of where she had once, perhaps in another lifetime, felt the sting of her ribs being cracked, split open and her thrumming heart exposed to the world. Where her lungs had filled with water and splintered apart at the seams and she winces as her blood thrums hot in her veins. She curls in on herself at the memories that had pulled her out of meditation, the pain pulled close to her ribcage like an old friend.

Iron Fist sighs around the concern in his throat and turns to the dark-haired man, who tilts his head curiously at the docile nature of the wind-bearer. "Recently, I have been teaching Tempest to balance her chi through the art of meditation. Usually, the experience is tame and comforting, but it seems to have awoken some rather unsettling demons in her that she cannot seem to place and have harming physical side-effects," he stands straighter slightly, the king in a teenager's skin, "we were wondering if you could perhaps piece this together or rid her of these memories."

Doctor Strange hums low, and with a flick of his wrist, the Orb of Agamotto lifts, taking flight and Tempest bristles at the sudden change in the air, eyes wide. It's stand lifts and is pushed across the room to sit against the wall, along with the chair - having thrown Powerman gracelessly from his perch - and any other objects that littered the round room. He plucks the orb from the air and turns it in his hands once, twice before holding it out towards Tempest as her new-found curiosity, a dormant trait, peeks out from behind her hands.

Trepidation pulls at her nerves as she takes the orb, looking up to the doctor with a weird look, seeking an explanation. His smile twitches behind the black whiskers he dons, "to cleanse you, we must first see what troubles you. It's a relatively harmless procedure, but we'll need the help of your friends."

When Tempest flinches, unfortunately familiar, she feels a hand cross over her shoulder with a soft, hesitating stroke of confidence, and her eyes turn sky-ward to meet the hooded figure of Cloak, angled chin sporting a lip-bitten mouth. Sureness is pushed into her through his hand and he nods at her, "I may not know much about what you're going through, but I'll help where I can. Whatever we see in this room, it's staying here, you don't have to worry."

Fissures and fault lines open in her chest at the gesture of silence, and it's amplified when Powerman ruffles her hair again, the code of silence rattling and screaming _truth_ behind his teeth when he smiles. Huffing a breath, the wind-thief rolls the orb in her hands once, twice before turning to stare at the doctor. "What do we have to do?"

It was only moments before they were all sat on the floor, crossed-legs and bitten fingers like children with the orb between them. Behind Doctor Strange, who places both hands on the orb opposite Tempest, is Iron Fist, Powerman and Cloak, stood with one hand each on Doctor Strange's back. Her fear holds itself in the splits of her teeth, with terror as it's oxygen as the doctor folds both her hands under his on the rounded, bloated body of the orb.

"To achieve this and to make the images you see more clear, we will need to use the offered energies from your friends to delve further into your memories or whatever these anomalies are; we'll enter through meditation and continue with our combined efforts," stardust be damned, her eyes shine with child-like wonder as he rattles off what procedures need to be done and she smiles up at him, watery and weak, but it's still there. "Are you ready?"

"I g-guess so, I just want to get this over with."

He bites on the edges of a smile and spreads his hands wide across the orb, eyes slotting closed along with everyone else's. She sinks into the familiar feeling, the familiar stance of a downtrodden child with her knees bent and head wilted as the sorcerer speaks. "Orb of Agamotto, open the gateway with your eternal guidance and grant us safe passage in this journey."

It's only for a moment, but still, the air shifts around her and it swells in her lungs familiarly, and she swears she lifts from the ground before the world bursts like a balloon, scattering light fragments and incantations around her. Her eyes blink awake, to a room she isn't in and an uncomfortable feeling sits restless in dusted skin. Around her, she's in the same atmosphere - water around her body, tube pressed into her ribs and the world against her heart - but it looks amplified, with brighter lights behind her confinement and sharper senses.

" _We are looking through your eyes,_ " the stone-wrought voice of the doctor pierces Tempest's mind and she recognizes the uncomfortable feeling of multiple people sitting dormant in her hands, in her shoulders and behind her eyes. She moves to nod, but her head stays rigid against the back of the tube and the silent question that blooms on her tongue is answered. " _Think of this as a pre-made dream - you cannot do any actions you normally would, as they've already been made and you are simply here to watch, to gather clues._ "

 _"Not to sound like a kid, but this is seriously tripping."_

 _"I-I know, I've never felt like this in my own head or e-even when we fought Dormmamu."_

 _"Who knew Tempest was so comfy?"_

She would have snorted if she could have, but her mouth stayed straight, her shoulders didn't jump with laughter but she could still feel the amused smile on Iron Fist's mouth shadow her own, the wonder in her eyes from Cloak and the ease Powerman felt in her ribs. Built from her friends, Tempest felt her skin strengthen, felt it mold into rock when it could have been crinkled paper.

Suddenly, a thick surge of adrenaline crawled from the base of her spine, and branched out across the twisted network of her veins and her chest lurched, her hands twitched with new vigor and beneath the cacophony of energy, Tempest watched in morbid curiosity as her body, no longer under her command, began to twitch free of her restraints. Restraints she hadn't seen before - her ankles and wrists were bound by thick metal cuffs, a square of metal ran over her stomach and bolted her to the back of the tube and as she fought for her freedom, she could feel a dozen needles pull from her spine and shoulders.

Vaguely, the scent of blood permeated her senses, floating in the water but she paid no mind as muscles that had been dormant for so long now bled with life, kicking out and punching at the glass. Beyond the glass world, the scene dipped into red and the rumbles of alarms sent her mind reeling.

 _"What the_ heck _are we watching?"_

 _"It appears to be some kind of...escapade or prison jumping, but they aren't held in cells. Tempest, is this the night you escaped HAL?"_

Her answer hung on the edge of her mouth, spelling out _yes I remember but not this_ , because she never remembered millions of needles embedding her to a wall, she never remembered the row of computer screens and overturned chairs that greeted her when she awoke. She never remembered splintering glass and flying out of it's mouth, razored teeth cutting across her skin, or standing with blood-stained fingers clenching into fists.

Slowly, wobbly, like a child finding their feet after sleep, she rose to stand and slid down the hallway, silent steps lighter than she'd ever seen. The air felt different, smelled different, and Tempest felt herself cocooning further into her chest, digging out this strange feeling, new and different and _wrong_ and throwing it out into the world, where she hovered just above the ground but paid no attention. Power tasted sweet on her tongue, like a baby starved of milk and she _drank, drank, drank_ until power was all she was made of.

 _"Where are you going, Tempest? Try to remember."_

 _"I-I don't - I can't! I have no idea what this is!"_

Cats pick at her skin in envy as she slinks like a predator down the hallway, her shadow flickering into life under the broken flashing lights. Wolves sit dormant in her veins and howl when a gunshot twigs against the wall behind her, just missing her and she spins on her heel, a hand throwing out and capturing a man around the throat, lifting him into the air and then, with violence that is not her own, tosses him against the wall like a rag doll, and he slumps all the same.

Her disgust at her actions flares up, but her other self remains emotionless, not one single feeling touching across her skin except something child-like, something young and innocent that doesn't belong in such a twisted and metallic world. In the back of her mind, the wind-thief knows that there are more coming other than that rogue soldier, that more weapons will be brought to gun her down, to send her crawling out with her own blood caked under her nails.

She _knows_ this, but for some strange reason, her footsteps are slow, calculated and her head tilts, staring at the reflection of herself that she didn't recognize. Her hair, that she's always known as long, was chopped short in haphazard lengths around her shoulders, and her brows were turned downwards, staring at the strange image, but across her hollowed-out cheeks were stains of blood and remnants of the glass, and her clothes are sodden and wet from the water she'd pulled herself out of.

A thick, off-white sleeveless shirt, that hung down to her hips like a dress and ripped into two points, but underneath were baggy trousers that pooled around her shoeless feet and with sickening clarity, realized that she was still wearing those clothes now, that they'd been colored differently over the years by some forgotten, unknown source. The only reason she knew besides the obvious resemblance, was because of the dark blue ribbon that was tied around the top of her arm, puncture wounds dotted beneath it.

 _"Temp, is that your...?"_

 _"Yeah. That's my mask."_

Her other self relinquishes her hold on her curiosity, and with the new-found power that tugs at her ashen nerves, locks it into her fist and lets a whirlwind loose as she punches at the glass. It fractures once and then breaks open, like a mouth screaming, when she punches again. She crawls delicately, with nimble fingers and a glass-heart, through the daggered teeth that swallow her into the belly of a room with wide computer screens, holographic images decorating the walls and files upon files of names, of lives ruined, thrown across a screen from floor-to-ceiling. In her own skin, Tempest grimaced, and her other self swept forwards with a scowl on her features.

On the screen, as it flickered with a shatter mark in the corner, it was marked on a single file - a girl with thick brown hair, a black eye and scars marked across her face from her treatment and Tempest almost choked on the name when her own hands pressed to the screen, and slips of air fell through her skin into the clockwork of the metallic giant, snapping wires with precision and expertise until the screen fizzled and turned black, tucking the girl away from the world. But _she knew her_ and she knew that no-one should ever see that information ever again.

Her hands lifted, curled towards the screen when she peered closer at the blackened screen. In it's reflection, behind her, she could see the soldiers lined up, could feel the heat from their guns as they aimed on her back and a man she recognized faintly, though she didn't know why, stood tall in between them all, a pistol in his hands.

She flinches, both physically and in the astral tense, when his grating and rough voice addresses her, "Wind Thief, think about this. You can hardly save yourself. What do you think you're going to do now?"

She doesn't recognize the venom that leaks like honey across her skin, doesn't feel the sharp intake of breath but still, her emotions spill in a broken and taut voice, stretched thin with the anger that breaks her veins in two. "I'm going to burn this place to the ground," and when she lifts her hands towards the men, she knows it's a promise.

The scene is enough for Tempest to close the curtain on, and she pulls out of the dream so violently, so quickly back into Doctor Strange's inner room, she tumbles backwards onto her back, staring at the strange patterns on the ceiling. Questions dot her tongue, but the air stolen from her lungs is hard and needles pierce her tongue as she breathes it in. _Panic attack_ , Ava had said once when she'd shot up from a nightmare and had folded her into her chest like a concerned mother, _is a sudden or overwhelming feeling of acute and disabling anxiety_ and soon, Cloak is pressing back her hair from her face and holding her body upright to grasp the air around her, murmuring in the same soft voice Ava had done so.

Tears are wiped from her cheeks and when she can finally breathe, she pats Cloak's hand and he peels it away, though he still hovers at her side. _Dagger has panic attacks too,_ she remembers and realizes he's a practiced individual in the art of comfort when he tosses her a smile, gently and strained but still a smile.

Powerman helps her stand and Iron Fist addresses the sorcerer, "I may say that was strange and different, and Tempest herself shows that she doesn't understand. Perhaps you can shed some light on this, Doctor?"

"No, I'm afraid I cannot."

Sudden fear lurches like a knife in her chest and she staggers as if she's just been punched into Powerman's arm, and he steadies her softly. "Y-You what? You can't help."

"I am afraid this is simply not magic that I am either aware of or it does not exist," guilt presses on dim, grey eyes under thick black brows, and his hands rub through his hair as he tries to conjure an explanation, like a rabbit out of a hat. But it's all parlor tricks and hallucinations in his hands when he digs for something, _anything_ to pull the fear from her sunken eyes. "I don't know why this truly takes a physical effect on you, but you do have a strong psyche - perhaps that is the reason. But, I can tell you that these memories are not the work of someone else. They're a part of you, maybe estranged and dormant but still apart of you. I am a sorcerer, but I was once a man of medicine and my only explanation can be amnesia of a sort, most likely retrograde. It blocks memories from your past that you may not remember now."

 _Amnesia._ The word tastes foul and different on her tongue, poking at it like a new specimen behind her teeth and tears fill her eyes. She wasn't a monster that wanted to burn an entire facility to the ground even if they had done horrible things to her, she was a small girl from Australia who had once had a family, a home and a name. But her family believes she's dead, her home no longer holds her room and her name is lost in some tidal wave of amnesia. Tempest's hands grasp onto her hair, tugging as if to rip the memories she's lost from her mind.

"So...you're saying, that-that girl was _me?_ That I-I punched through glass, that I _killed_ a man with no feeling? W-What...what the hell _am_ I?" She sinks onto her haunches, head pressed into her hands - are these really her hands, hands that have lifted a man by the throat and ruined him? - and tries to press the tears back into her shattered mind.

A hand grasps her shoulder though, shaking it to peer upwards towards a yellow-mask, and a down-turned scowl. He's lost for words as the tears pull out from their confinement once again, and he only opens his arms and she sinks into him, wrapping her arms around Iron Fist's neck and letting him pull her into his embrace, swatting away the demons that hiss at her mind. "I'm so sorry, Tempest. But please know, you are not a monster."

"Y-You don't know that, Danny."

He sighs in her ear, and gives her a gentle, comforting squeeze before pulling back, swiping the tears from her cheeks with expert fingers. "I know _you_ though; we all do. Whatever happened in this lifetime or the last and whatever happens in the next, you are not a monster. You are a survivor and that's perfectly okay."

Tempest nods, bidding her doubts to the back of her throat and Iron Fist helps her stand, and she pulls away from him when she's steady. Doctor Strange nods at her, and as Powerman and Iron Fist debate on whether to tell Fury and ask Cloak to ready themselves to leave, he pats her shoulder, lifting her down-turned eyes skywards. "Sometimes, you must confront any demons you may have and even let them loose to genuinely find a place where you can gain some understanding. This is not the end Tempest, and you know this. Come to me anytime if you wish to find out more about this - my door is always open to friends."

"Thank you, Doctor," but the words are half-made, and the pain in her chest doesn't lessen, even when she slips into the Triskellion moments later to find Sam standing at the door with a worried expression, carding his hands through his hair as Flash rants beside him.

When she raises her brow, she almost crumbles at his answer. "Blind Spot escaped."


	16. xvi

**This one isn't as long as the others, but it's entirely fluff and I hope you guys enjoy some character development between these two. But the next chapter afterwards, I believe is all character development, so enjoy this for the time being.**

 **CrazyAwesomeZebra - sorry i left you on a bit of a cliffhanger, but hopefully this makes up for it! Thank you for all your comments, they make me really happy.**

 **Jillian Dunbar - Maybe this will suffice? hehe**

 **Read on, wind-bearers!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen**

There's so much grey to

every story - nothing is so black and white.

 _ **\- Lisa Ling**_

* * *

"You wouldn't think they'd put their two fliers together, would you?"

"No, it's pretty stupid but then again - it _is_ Spidey's planning. I mean, what happens when one of them needs an air lift?" Tempest rubbed her hands together in the frigid cold, scratching the warmth back into them as Nova floated lower towards her. Landing, he held out his hands towards her, glowing in the dim light. "C'mere, let me warm you up a bit at least."

Letting out a puff of white air, she gladly deposits her shaking hands between his, letting the nova energy he exudes warm her and she smiles up at him, snuffling back into the scarf she's stolen from someone gratefully, "thanks, I'm not very used to the cold, growing up in Australia and all."

Nova snorts, pulling the scarf tighter around her shoulders and tugging at the falling edges of the thick coat that hangs around her, fretting like a concerned friend. She wondered, vaguely, if it was because he could see the hardened determination that sat like broken rocks in her eyes, splintering every concern and soft word into bits when it just scraped past the rocks.

Above, the roar of a helicopter blares past, and she's rocketed back to their reality - road blocks, helicopter spots, perimeter corners cover them from every axis and point; New York whispers of a web of spies trapping them, but a boy with an affinity for invisibility still mocks them as he roams the streets, gone from a cell and into the world. Her chest hardens around the reality, crinkling across her bones like scarred paper, and she pulls her hands from Nova's.

Used to the docile and timid nature, he no longer looks hurt but rather impressed - it takes her longer to pull out of his hold now, more words leak from her bow-string lips and pride swells whenever she adds onto her sentences with passion on her tongue. So he's listening intently when her fingers delve into her coat pockets, when her eyes drip to her feet and her lips part. "It's most likely we won't find him - he's invisible, _literally_. This is a waste of time."

Nova's hands fold behind his head, and he's devoid of his usual sarcastic tongue, when he can see the guilt-ridden look fray her eyes into narrowed slits. "Yeah, he's invisible. But we'll find him Temp," he says, and hooks an arm around her shoulders, prompting her to stare upwards at him, "I promise you."

The world turns quiet under their feet, and he's smiling when her arms pull around his waist, pressing into his chest gratefully for the uplift of her determination, easily waning and severed after hours of scouring rooftops and back-door alleyways. He rubs the warmth into her shoulders, tucking her to his chest for a moment before letting her pull back and he blames the blush on his cheeks from the cold. "Do you wanna talk about something else, to pass the time?"

Relief pulls at her cheeks as she nods, and tweaks her fingers from the fists in her pockets as the snow brushes through her curls, and she perches at the edge of the rooftop, feet skimming the air as it empties into the pocket of space that stretches below her. Nova drops beside her, leaning back on his hands.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"How'd you get the bucket?" The smile splits across her face when he groans at the nickname, folding her laughter between her ribs like a blanket, cushioning the breaks in it's design when something worse comes along. Nova's hand dip under the helmet, scratching across the base of his neck before both come away and grasp the corners of the helmet, pulling it from his head. and he cringes as the wind slaps him in face harshly. For a moment, he's silent as he stares at the helmet before curling it up to his chest and leaning precariously on it.

Turning his head, he slaps at her hands as they muss his helmet-head hair from his skull, and rolls his eyes when she laughs. "Well, what happened was...well, it started with my dad; he was a janitor at my old school in Arizona, before I got the helmet, and I'd sometimes help him with fixing things. But, when I'd help him, he'd talk and go on and on about being a Nova, his adventures in space and I-I never believed him and I got annoyed with him all the time, it was horrible. In hindsight, I was a massive idiot."

"You still are."

He snorts and punches into her shoulder lightly, so as not to scare her, and the brunette pulls her tongue out playfully as she hangs precariously over the edge, staring down at the abyss that stretches like midnight beneath her feet. "Thanks. Anyways, he disappeared one day - he wasn't at school, at home or at the bars I looked in when I was looking for him and it got _late_ and I got _hurt_ , the really terrible kind of hurt, and I wouldn't have survived probably if Rocket and Gamora hadn't -"

"Rocket and Gamora?"

"You're gonna meet them someday, don't worry. They're friends of my dad's and he gave his helmet - _this_ helmet," he stresses, throwing the helmet out clutched between his fingers to stare at, eyes furrowing downwards. Instead of feeling power curl like an ocean wave under his fingers, thick and tremendous, he felt the smooth curve of metal, of cosmic anomalies built under his skin into one dome. The reddened star was bashed and battered and _bruised_ , but it was so very much _Jesse Alexander_ that it looked as perfect as anything to Sam. "To them, to give to me when they found me. They slipped into my hospital room, stuck it on my head and the Nova Life Force _saved_ me. It's like Dad knew I'd get in trouble and he was looking out for me, and then Rocket and Gamora took me into space to train with them and the other Guardians and SHIELD found me and that's it, that's how I got the helmet."

The world stole his breath away as he rubbed a smudge from the black, silvered surface, delicately and precise in his movements. He ghosted a breath across the dome, and gave another tentative rub, lovingly polishing the legacy his father had deposited in his hands with _you're gonna do great_ twigging against his spine in a xylophone of harmony. Nostalgia winds it's arms around his shoulders, tugging him into a soft embrace and only then does a green eye touch upon the reflection in the shine of the helmet, finding Tempest staring at him with a small smile.

He perches a look over his shoulder and the girl just shrugs at him softly, every bone supple and soft under the touch of midnight and her eyes droop with exhaustion. The lights of a far-off helicopter blare across a building a few blocks away and Tempest flinches back into the shadows like practice has made perfected. But she pretends it's a trick of the light when Nova sends her a worried look, slipping the cosmic helmet back onto his messy spikes of hair as she slumps against the gravel, joining her seconds later, just like always.

"You sound like you really love your dad."

"Of course I do," he answers, sureness hardening around his words as he watches her fall back, hands fitting almost nervously on her stomach, threading together with knotted veins and broken muscles when she flinches at his next words. "Don't you love yours?"

"I haven't seen him in _years_ ," her eyes turn towards the ground beside her head, watching snow fall and frost climb over the teeth of the building and she crumples, curling up her knees and her shoulders and her very existence, putting herself in such a small pocket of space that even Nova, for all his time in the galaxies, can only hardly seem to reach, can only brush his fingers over a star-broken arm as she gazes away. "I haven't seen him or mom in years - since I was eight, so if you do the math, almost a decade. I've been trying to save up the money to get home one day, and the money from SHIELD is helping me get there, but I doubt...I doubt they'd remember me."

Something lurches, deep and ugly, in the bottom of Nova's stomach at the though of anyone forgetting Tempest at all _,_ and his thoughts turn to his own mother forgetting him. Forgetting how he'd crawl into her bed at night when his father smelled of beer, when he'd fall asleep to the soft children's parables he'd hear - how could someone forget blessed memories with something that embodies everything they are?

"No parent forgets their child, Temp."

"Maybe. But then again, I wouldn't really blame them if they think their child has been dead for eight years."

At that, Nova shoots into a sitting position so violently, he topples into the abyss and he only feels a bit of slight terror at falling until the Nova force acts on him and he's floating in front of Tempest, worry seeping her eyes and he wastes no time in grasping her arms, forcing her to look at him. " _What do you mean they think you're dead?_ "

Calculated fear and something else sits in his voice, and Tempest searches his face as she hesitantly brings him down to sit beside her. His features, hardened by the pain of loss, make her wonder how much he's had to lose. "I-I...when I was eight, my parents never came back for me, Sam. They never...they _left_ me, they _abandoned_ me, at least I thought they did. But when I broke out of the labs when I was, I think twelve or thirteen, I found some information I probably shouldn't have. It s-said I was pronounced legally dead due to my sickness as a minor, and that my parents had no surviving children. So, according to this world, I don't exist. I thought Fury would have told you."

He pauses as the tears collect in her eyes, as the knife in her ragged heart twists slightly and she flinches against nothing, at least nothing he can see. But a war plays under her the criss-crossed marks of her hands, a battle of control stretching her skin until it splits and pours stardust-blood like ruin between the gaps in her bones and he can see the amount of strength it takes to keep it in. So he bundles her up, sits her on his lap like a child and holds the weight for her, if not for a little while, if not forever.

Tempest presses her face into the crook of his neck, can smell the cologne that he'd used that morning and can see a soft marring of bruises that dip below his collarbone from a fight long gone. Her small hands fist into his clothes, almost desperately like a lifeline and she shakes under his soft words. "Fury didn't tell any of us, so I can guess that you probably haven't told anyone else. Why _didn't_ you tell us, Tempest? We've been worried about you for weeks, we could have helped you."

The statement rang true in deaf ears - Danny, Luke and Cloak had arrived moments after her and had seen the crumple of Tempest when she'd learned Blind Spot had escaped, her one tie to the secrets about herself she didn't know, and similarly when she'd quietened her voice after her meeting with Harry Osborn and when Spiderman had brought her home, wrought with worry and slight fear for the girl. Somehow, almost everyone had seen her fracture under the weight of whatever her pain was and it seemed only fair for Nova's turn to be months later, piecing her back together.

She sniffs, leaning her weight against Nova's shoulder and he brushes the hair from her eyes, tenderly, like she's _his_ \- and even though he _knows_ she's not, that she's anything _but that_ , he still curls her further against him, a rock against dust. "Not everything's black and white; I guess I was just waiting for the perfect opportunity because, let's face it, telling people that you don't exist isn't the sort of thing you do over a sandwich in a break room."

There's something incredibly _soft_ in the way he cushions his chin against the top of her head, how he lets her press closer in the snow and how he doesn't know where Tempest begins and Nova ends. Tentatively, hesitatingly, he presses a kiss to the mess of curls, closing his eyes and murmuring against them, as if he doesn't want her to hear them. "No, not everything's black and white, some things are inherently grey. But you're one of the brightest things I've ever seen," he can feel her stiffen, confusion rattling ancient hymns in the hollows of her bones and moored sirens sing in her blood as he angles his head towards her, connecting her eyes to his, stars exploding in green. "And I've seen stars _burst,_ Tempest. Whatever happens to you, you have a team that can hold every part of you - you're never alone in this."

Her fingers prick on his face, almost lovingly if he really tricked himself, and she angles upwards and he feels her lips brush against his cheek where she moves the helmet slightly, bare and gentle, and so incredibly a rush of wind he can't help but smile when she pulls away and presses herself back into his careful arms.

 _And it's almost perfect_ , he muses. "So, you been stealing your speeches off of webs or something?"

"Oh for god's - you can't let me have anything, can you?" he whines when she pulls herself off of his lap and deposits herself at his side but he can see the distinct lack of distance, can feel the heat from her pulled up legs press against his own and the whirlwinds that scream in her eyes have been quietened for another night and he's _proud_ of that.

She laughs loudly, without forethought or parameter, and he can tell that that's how she'd laugh if she'd never contracted a disease, if she'd grown up with the sun on her back and a smile on her mouth and her head in the stars, if she'd been one of the lucky ones. So he laughs with her, encouraging to find a girl that may have been lost for almost a decade. "No, I can't, or else you'll start getting a head as big as his."

"No-one can get a head as big as that," and they're back to themselves, without the world pressing on their chests and the fear in their eyes and he lets her write snow angels into the foot of snow that's appeared, lets her throw a few snowballs and he even tackles her in playfulness until Fury's calling them back to the Triskellion and the world has to wait, at least until the winter kiss clears their presence from the rooftop.


	17. xvii

**This one's a twofer, which I hope you guys will like. I realized I rarely used Danny in parts, as well as knowing about the 'one-year-until-king' thing he's got going on and I wanted to give a little insight into what that entails and it's costs, instead of it's privileges. But, alas, I'll still be updating next Wednesday, so you'll be stuck on a cliffhanger for another week - sorry!**

 **Also, I wanted to thank you guys again, for all of your help and your incredible support. Here's another chapter for you guys, I hope you like it.**

* * *

 **( Part One )**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

Confidentiality is a virtue

of the loyal, as loyalty

is the virtue of faithfulness.

 _ **\- Edwin Louis Cole**_

* * *

A few days later, when New York has quietened after the initial shock of Blind Spot's escape, Tempest practically tosses herself out of the lecture hall, balancing books precariously after the intense test she'd taken under Black Widow's guidance. Beside her, White Tiger slings an arm across her shoulders and pulls some books from hers, and she can tell she's grinning under the mask. "I think I aced that - how'd you think you did?"

"You ace everything, Ava," remarks Spiderman, pulling up the edge of his mask as he walks past and pressing a kiss to her clothed cheek, earning a choking sound from Iron Spider as he leaves the classroom; and Tempest only smiles sneakily when she can see the soft-natured tense in White Tiger's shoulders, embarrassment blooming like wild-flowers in the gaps of her bones.

Turning back to Tempest, the shorter brunette shrugs, piling the books carefully and smiling thankfully when Flash relieves her of a few more. "I-I think I did okay, I'm not sure. I didn't get many of the questions so maybe I can do a make-up test for - _w-whoa!_ "

She pitches forward as her right shoulder suddenly swerves, twisting with the force of a bull as something rockets past her, and she only stays upright when Spiderman grabs her arm across White Tiger's front, steadying her and she peers up through a waterfall of dark hair, finding Iron Fist spin on his heel from where he'd shot past her. His eyes widen as the books she'd held clatter to the ground and he bounces forwards, scooping them up and depositing them in her hands with the skill of the ninja that is tucked under golden armor.

With every ounce of training in his blood, he hurries through a bow at the waist to the slightly surprised brunette. "My deepest apologies Tempest, I hope you can forgive me," but when Tempest slides her mouth around _don't worry Danny, are you alright?_ but he's already flying down the hall, powerful energy throwing itself wildly around him and only when he's disappeared around the corner, twitching fingers and all, does she unfreeze with a sideways glance towards Flash.

"Uh, shorty, did you see what I saw?"

"I t-think I did."

Spiderman springs into action, letting loose a web in the hallway of the Triskellion. "D-Danny, wait!" It's as if an order has sprang from his lips - _follow_. White Tiger, Venom, Iron Spider and Tempest shoot down the hall after the spider, towards where the bunk rooms are. Spiderman flies in after Iron Fist, trailing after the blond as he throws open his wardrobe, startling Dagger and Squirrel girl from a conversation and Powerman bouncing in after them, spearing Squirrel Girl with a questioning look at the blond's peculiar antics.

The red and blue hero tilts his head, narrowly avoiding a flying scarf which manages to twist around Tempest's face behind and Flash plucks it off in amusement. "Hey, Danny, you're pretty un-zen today. You wanna share with the group, buddy?"

He only peers over his shoulder in the tenth of a second, before chucking a t-shirt with expert precision into a suitcase across the room, clipping Rhino by the horn. "I-I'm sorry, Spider, but I am in a hurry and I cannot afford to part any time to explain. I'm just going on a trip for a minimum of three days."

" _Oookay_ , down you go, ninja boy," drawls Dagger, gliding forwards with the light she wields in her feet and pressing a delicate hand into a gold-plated shoulder, effectively pushing Iron fist down onto a mattress, facing the now full group of SHIELD trainees, spearing the blond with narrowed looks. "You're gonna talk, and you're gonna talk _now._ "

The blond stutters around an excuse, but promptly slides onto the mattress when Powerman taps on the edge of his sunglasses, tugging them down to connect his eyes to Iron Fist's and somehow, everyone can practically see the wave of thought from the dark-skinned teenager that presses Iron Fist into the mattress. His shoulders slump and his elbows find their way, balancing like cards on his knees and he scratches along his leg nervously. "...I have to return to K'un L'un."

The world spins on it's axis and someone stumbles, as if battered by the sheer shock. _"What?!"_

Iron Fist, ever the peace-maker, hangs a hand in the air to stop the tidal wave of _why, when, why didn't you tell us?_ and spears a look towards the group, sighing around the nervousness that ties itself into a bundle at the junction of his collarbones. "It is only to get my affairs in order and to walk among my people before I take the throne of K'un L'un. It will only be for a maximum of three or four days, but I am nervous to meet the elders once again."

Relief seems to be a tidal wave over the entire group, even if his voice rattles like a child's toy and his eyes are weary from lack of sleep. So, to calm the storm that kicks up in leaf-green eyes, Spiderman glides forwards with the grace of a leader. "Dude, if you're so nervous why not take someone with you? Or better yet, why not take all of us? Sensei short-stack won't really care that much, I mean, have you _seen_ your place?"

"Please don't call him Sensei short-stack, Peter. He prefers Master."

" _Master_ short-stack won't mind, no worries. Come on Danny," prompts the Spider, slinging a web to the ceiling to hang down in front of the blond and swipes an arm out towards the group, and even if his mask covers it, his smile radiates. "What d'you think you've got a team for?"

He doesn't feel it at first, but Tempest is suddenly at his side, spouting wind and soft air that slowly, gently, calms the storm that's rocketed up in his veins. Bird-bone fingers grasp the edge of his mask - only the edge, as if she grabs more, she's taking more than her fair share - and tugs it, a playful smile that she's _earned_ touching her mouth. "What are bandanna buddies for, Danny? We'll help you pack."

He chuckles at the fond nickname for the friendship they'd created and the tense atmosphere in the room cracks and splinters as excitement grasps the teen's, voices becoming loud and booming as the premise of a vacation for a weekend becomes more prominent. Soon, they're tossing clothes over their shoulders and then at each other and the training that had bruised their skin and tired their muscles seems a world away as the children in their bones laugh.

The day dips into evening and when the stars appeared like bright inkblots in the sky, Danny's hefting bags over his shoulders with his friends beside him as the jet touches down on the runway of the tricarrier. Agents line the doorways on Fury's orders - _don't get into trouble; I_ will _find out_ \- and the door to the jet slithers open with a smooth mechanical whir. The teenagers piled unceremoniously into the Rand industries jet and even if the atmosphere was exploding with laughter, dares and chaos, Danny had never felt more in his element.

The pilot approached the group as they spun around the cabin like children released on a sugar high, trying to remain passive even if amusement wormed itself like a snake into his eyes. "The journey will take a maximum of five and a half hours, we will reach K'un L'un at five am, Mr Rand and Co."

"Ava, d'you hear that? We're _Co_."

Ava snickered behind her hand as her boyfriend bundled her up against his chest, rolling her eyes upwards. "If that's the matter, I'm _co-ing_ to catch up on that test that Widow has for us when we return."

"That was a bad pun, seriously. But can I copy?"

The air-tight cabin world settled into comfortability, teenagers tossing themselves into seats with the exception of Flash who immediately departed for a drink at a built-in bar further into the metallic body of the plane. Amadeus, Ava and Tandy settled themselves with a book each, Peter leaning over Ava's shoulder playfully, even if she kept swatting at him. Tempest lowered herself beside a window, smiling almost gleefully as she watched the runway disappear beneath them when she felt a soft weight press into her shoulder.

Beside her, Sam had dropped like a sack of potatoes, leaning his shoulders against her and his knees bent over the arm-rest in the square double-seater. She smiled gently as he lifted his game over his head towards her, "Temp, check it out. I'm totally whipping Luke's butt at this."

"You wish, bucket-head," remarks the boy from across the two, with his long legs spread out and his brow down-turned as his fingers swiped deftly and expertly across the screen, which lit up the amused smile on Danny's mouth. Suddenly, his jaw dropped in an excited 'O' as Sam screamed in frustration. "Oh, and what just happened? You said I couldn't pass you, I wasn't gonna pass you and _guess who fucking got passed_."

"Come on man, I was trying to impress Tempest!"

"Don't worry, I have very low expectations of you."

Sam squeaks at her words, but nevertheless, tucks himself tighter against her and the plane ride continues smoothly, with Peter joining in once he's finished with his homework and Ty and Danny join them in soft silence as the journey continues. Tempest's eyes remained outside the window, locked squarely in excitement as the long fields that resided out of New York city split into the high peaks of mountains that billowed above the clouds and plummeted downwards in jagged slopes, slicing the wind in two.

The mountains turned white, and droplets of fresh snow fell past the windows as they glided just below the clouds and she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her awake from her previous almost unconscious state and she peers up to find Danny smiling down at her, dressed in the K'un L'un traditional clothing. She exchanges the smile around a yawn and shifts, feeling something solid and warm trapped around her waist.

Somehow, during the flight, Sam's arm had found it's way around her waist and he was practically holding her in a death grip, raven black hair messy and curled across his forehead. Her chest burst with something akin to starlight at the sight, but she couldn't place it and she inched out of his grip towards Danny, who held a thick parka jacket out towards her.

A strange look crossed his normally placid features, eyes shining like light as he looked at her reddened cheeks and twitch of a smile, "he seems quite smitten with you, if I didn't know any better."

Tempest's shoulders lurch with trepidation, shooting towards her ears and the red blooms more fiercely on her face. Her fingers card her hair back as she slides her eyes towards the blond, casting him an annoyed look that held no power. "Don't be mean, Danny," she murmurs, but something in her chest still feels lighter than the air she's trapped in her veins, than the fire that burns in the junction of collarbones and slithers upwards to cover her cheeks. Names of emotions come to mind but none of them fit, and she slips the parka on, ignoring the knowing look that seems permanent on Danny's face when he see's the two of them together.

"What are bandanna buddies for? Come, help me rouse them, we'll be descending in twenty minutes and _some_ will want to look presentable," his head jerks backwards towards Tandy, who by all means, is hardly graceful in sleep with her head flopped over the edge of the seat and her legs thrown out over the head and arm rest, with Ty sprawled in a similar position. The circle around her eyes seems to thrum every time a soft snort pulls from her mouth and Tempest can't help but giggle as she nods.

Soon, the plane is thrumming with life and everyone's clutching jackets close to their bodies and Ava's quizzing Danny - _how should I greet them? should I bow? should I keep my mask on or pull a Spidey?_ \- and Tempest has never felt more at home when the plane's nose turns downwards into a dive. She can see the sick look on Luke's features, unused to flying, and grabs his hand to ease his worry and laughs when Sam whoops in excitement beside her, throwing his arms upwards.

Soon, the runway screeches beneath the wheels and the door slides open, and equal groans of loss of warmth fill the cabin, but Danny steps out and throws his bare arms wide to the tundra that coats his home, alive with childhood memories and training sessions that only Danny see's in the hidden expanse of the walls. His swipes his arms wide as his friends exit the cabin, laughing when they groan once again, "welcome to K'un L'un."

Tempest's eyes narrow and her hand lifts a finger into the air before slotting it between her lips, and she turns to the blond. "Danny, the air tastes _really_ clean up here."

The unspoken question is answered with a recount of K'un L'un's mystical properties and the daily fresh fleet of snow, and it staves off Tempest's childish curiosity for now. But her curiosity is bitten in two and discarded when something blinks golden in the rug of white that falls around her, and even if her fingers are cold beneath the gloves and snow latches onto her eye lashes like clinging fingers, but she keeps them open as her eyes fall on broad, marble walls the outline the city like a margin, with Japanese _uchi's_ , with layered roof's and wooden structures that spread out and are built into the mountainside, thick fog curling ghostly fingers across the golden world. Above the marble walls, a golden square pierces the clouds with strange markings and looks over one-hundred-and-fifty-feet tall, breaking the clouds in half with it's massive stature. Her jaw slots closed, and it's only Sam's hand in hers that pulls her out of her awestruck phase, pulling her up alongside the group.

The doors to the city slide open and Danny walks through them, like a king returning home and he _is_ , and the entire group that has his back beams with pride as the city, once asleep, seems to wake up and sing with his return. Someone, in the middle of the group, remarks he's never looked happier when people run up towards him and children laugh as he scoops them up, like a father, like a _friend_.

But their eyes fall on the outsiders, and although the adults fall back into the normal manner of _no outsiders in the city_ , the children show no hesitation and bound towards the newcomers, picking them apart and although she sense no threat, Tempest squeaks and let's Sam shield her, even though he laughs as their questions spout excitedly off their tongues. Some recognize Peter as Spiderman, bare without his mask and the tenseness that had sat on Danny's shoulder like bricks seems to lift as his friends converse excitedly.

Someone shows off their powers and the children stare in childlike wonder and it's only broken when a child, half-way climbing Luke like a tree, is plucked off into the arms of an elderly man. Wrinkles mar his angular face with a pair of circular glasses perched on a rounded nose, and thick white hair from a receding hairline is knotted in a pony tail that sits between his shoulder blades. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Tempest envisions he is the personification of K'un L'un, with thick white ceremonial robes, with the hems of his clothes ringed in gold. He deposits the child gently, who returns to his mother and the rest fo the children follow, a natural force falling over them in the presence of this man.

His hands, tucked neatly in long robes, smooth down his robes and he turns to find Danny bending at the waist, and his friends follow suit. "Daniel, it is a pleasure to see you home once again."

"It is _my_ pleasure to return, Master. I received your message and I am ready to do what is right by my people," he counters, and the wrinkled man lets a smile grace his face at the words. Then, Danny straightens, causing the others to straighten too and he sweeps a hand out towards them, "I hope you don't mind, but I brought my friends with me for support in this trying time. I hope you are not upset."

But, contrary to his first beliefs, the Master smiles and nods, eyes closing as he does so and he opens them again, the well-placed authority sitting comfortably in his bones like an old friend that never left. But something makes his skin tickle, and his eyes narrow in on the brunette behind Sam, who curls her under his shoulder as she shivers against the sudden wave of the cold and smiles at her when she doesn't flinch out of his embrace. However, his eyes turn away towards Danny. "If all of your friends are as honorable as the spider, then K'un L'un shall have no qualms in their being here. Come, let us enter the monastery and warm ourselves in _traditional_ clothing."

Nobody misses the stink eye the master gives towards the outsider clothes and Tandy snickers behind her hand as they follow towards the large golden structure and soon, the world turns warm as the doors close behind them and they shed their coats and gloves and down a long corridor, they fell into a room with a circular fireplace and everyone all but dropped like bricks onto the ground in front of it. Spiderman curled Ava into his chest as she shivered, both animal-themed heroes groaning as their hands warmed.

Squirrel girl nestled herself closer to the fire and Luke, Flash and Ty fell in a bundle around it like sleepy children and the master, now joined by his colleagues could only laugh. The master asked to take Danny from the room and with a soft promise of return, he slipped from the room and through the monastery doors. The group takes root in the small room with the remaining masters watching them.

But a hand lands on Tempest's shoulder as she slumps against Amadeus, inviting the warmth to rattle her bones clean of the cold, and she jumps, only to find a female master with wide blue eyes and wonder across her features. The girl blinks at her, pulling out of the touch almost instantly and the woman pulls her own hand back. "May I ask who you are, child?"

Her voice is gravelly and broken by something Tempest doesn't know, but she gives the woman the only name she's ever known and she nods, before making a gesture for her to stand. Slowly, she pulls herself to her feet, alerting the others and they stand with her, suspicion lacing every line of their bodies. The female Master pulled back, suddenly docile but she smiled gently as she turned to Tempest. "Child, there is something that I believe you will wish to see - if you would _all_ follow me."

She spears a narrowed look towards the group that flanks the brunette, and knows that she isn't leaving without them, so she brings them along with her fellow masters, weaving them through doors and hallways until they're spat out into a wide circular room, much like the one they were in before but it's larger and the wall structure changes, from carefully built marble to rough mountain. Across the walls, which light with dancing fire from the over-hanging candles, pictures are scraped into the structure.

"This," starts one of the elderly masters, pressing a hand across the rounded walls and smiling, like his home resides in the heart of the mountain, "is the room of story; it was created by our elders elders and it's a recount of the making of K'un L'un and it's future until it no longer stands on these mountains. It showed Daniel's rise to power, his wave of peace among our world and now, it shows _this_."

Her eyes cast along the walls, which flicker with their shadows and she traces the ragged lines that scratch along the wall to show people picking up bricks, building houses that turn into homes, a world out of marble and gold and she smiles gently. Then, the scratches change shape as she glides around the circular room, tracing the prophecy of Danny being made king and his era of peace.

But her hands touch around something else that's been drawn into the rock, into the foundation of K'un L'un's very being and they trace around the lines that depict a round face with long hair and clothes that are similar to hers. Her fingers are spread wide and it looks as if a tornado is wrapped around her body, but her features are calm with a small smile and her eyes widen. At the corner of her mouth, the same shape of her scar sits. Something fragile snaps in her as she stares at her face, cut into a mystical mountain wall.

"W-What is this?" Her chest lurches with something ugly, something that doesn't suit her punctured lungs and everyone else is stunned into silence, except the masters that look upon her with glee.

An elderly master steps forwards and even though she flinches once again when he takes her shoulder, he turns her, back to his chest, to look up at the markings that depict her on the monastery walls. With his voice soft, he smiles down at her with excitement. "This is the prophesied wind child; when king Daniel takes the throne, she is to stay beside him and help him usher in an era of peace. This wind child is you, miss Tempest."

Before she can talk, Tempest feels something cold slot around her neck and panic sets the marrow in her bones into a tidal wave of fear. Her hands step away and feel something thick and metallic around her throat, finding a collar there and the fear turns poisonous in her hands, ready to throw out her wind powers but electricity shocks through her system and she screeches in pain.

The sudden yelp of pain alerts her friends as she drops to her knees and they bounce into action, throwing themselves towards her when guards fly from the walls and doors and fight them back. Each time the power surges into her and threatens to throw itself outwards in a defensive manouever, to knock the air out of their lungs, the electricity sets her nerves aflame and her chest burns with a scream.

"No! _Stop_ it! What are you doing?!"

"What is best for K'un L'un," says an even-toned Master, who threw out a hand towards the guards who grabbed Tempest by the forearms. Pain shot through her, against her, and when she tried to calm herself and start again, her powers wouldn't listen, wouldn't flare up inside her body like the familiar flicker she was used to and her body sagged. "King Daniel will have his era of peace, and to confirm this, a ceremony between Daniel and the Wind Child will be made and in six months, Daniel will take the throne and the era of peace will be imminent."

"N-No...Sam..." Tempest's eyes turn tired as the shocks ring through her again and somebody's arms - _this isn't Sam, who is this?_ \- fold around her and lift her. No strength sits dormant in her veins, no air comforts her when she tries to pull it towards her and out in a wave. The collar around her neck prohibits her powers from reaching the surface and she's _tired_ , so when sleep calls, she pulls at it with softening fingers.

They watch how she slumps in a guard's arms, and how they pull her from the room, and Sam's screaming in anger and Ava's kicking out and Flash is already unconscious against the wall. The door slots closed and chaos explodes in the room as they fight their way towards the closed doors.

"Enough! Take them to the holding cells until the ceremony is complete," bellows an authoritative voice and one by one, each of them are captured, knocked out or constrained by the sheer amount of guards that are called. It isn't until they're constrained do the four masters look down at them, with pride in their eyes. "You will understand when Daniel is king, and only then will we ask for your forgiveness. But then again, your outsider toys are useful."

"You don't know that! She won't marry Danny, and Danny won't marry her."

"If he wants to be king, he _will._ "


	18. xviii

**What's up guys! So, I've got some news. I sorta got excited with this story and I forgot to tell you guys _two chapters ago_ , but in my notes - it's finished. Volatile has about five more chapters left to it from this one so I'm really super excited. **

**Therefore, I'll be updating twice a week until the end. Like the normal timetable on Wednesday, and then on Saturday until the end on Volatile, which I hope you'll like. And Guest, I'm sorry for leaving you on a cliff hanger, hopefully it didn't feel too long for you. CrazyAwesomeZebra, you're probably one of the reasons I enjoy writing so much - your comments make this worthwhile! Anyways, thank you all for reading!**

* * *

 **( Part Two )**

 **Chapter Eighteen**

It isn't the mountains ahead to

climb that wears you out;

it's the pebble in your shoe.

 _ **\- Muhammad Ali**_

* * *

The bars shuddered as the fist punched against it, and again, Sam clutched his reddening fingers as he growled out a curse his mother would slap him for. Fury seemed to be permanent in his bloodstream, and it poisoned his blood as the bars that held him captive gave another angry shake when he kicked a foot out towards it.

"For God's sake Sam - shut _up!_ " hissed Amadeus from across the cell, hanging upside down over the bed, bare of his armor and his brow down-set as he muttered beneath his breath, a hiss between razored teeth.

Sam breathed anger and glared at the dark-haired boy, before tiredly slumping like a bruised ego against the bars, shoving his hands through his hair away from his eyes. He pauses in his scraping fingers, and narrows his eyes at the boy.

"Amadeus?"

"Yeah?"

"Why're you hanging upside down?"

"To stimulate the blood flow to my brain, idiot," bites back the boy, folding his arms beneath his head and Sam finally notices the murmuring under his breath, the equations and angles he produces from basically thin air, and something pangs in Sam's chest when he remembers the familiar phrase that accompanies deep brown eyes. "I'm trying to think a way out of this without my armor, your helmet and everything else they took from us."

He remembers how they took Amadeus's armor, his helmet, Peter's web shooters and Tiger's amulet, along with the others beside Flash, SG, Dagger, Rhino and Luke, whose powers were infused into their cells and were tagged with the same collars that Tempest had been struck with that sent electricity through their muscles every time they tried to use them. Every now and again, he'd hear Luke hiss in pain as the heightened electricity pierces through his bullet-proof skin.

Amadeus rolled like a boulder off his bed, into the lotus position facing away from his bed and narrowed intelligent eyes like daggers to the wall opposite, where Sam slumped like a wishbone, legs ridged and sloppy all at once. His hands scrub through his hair, catching onto thick clumps and tugging, as if to pull the frenzied thoughts from his head and the fear from his thumping chest. "I can't believe this; one minute we were waiting for Danny - the next Tempest's on some wall and unconscious! I can't believe Danny's gonna _marry_ her..."

"He probably doesn't even know," he doesn't realize it, but he Sam flinches at the despondent tone that vibrates in Peter's words, how the leader of their team can sound so trampled into the dust of this hole-in-the-wall dungeon sets his nerves on fire. Out of the corner of Sam's eye, a few cells down, he can see the brunet swipe his hands over his tired face. "Most likely, he'll be dressed up in ceremonial robes and go down, thinking it's some kind of assembly for something mystic and stuff and then he'll walk out, married."

"That's _not_ fair!"

Rhino throws a horned head to the bars, rattling them like their hearts but they do not shake; they do not brake. "It's _not_. I want out of here, I want out of here _now_ -" his words fizzle on his tongue and electricity crackles down his spine from the collar clipped around his throat like a portable jail-cell.

"Shut _up_ ," bites Flash, whose fingers are digging under the collar and he sucks in his screams, though his eyes water and the fear swimming in them represent a clawed in chest, bleeding and inoperable. "Parker, come on. You're _Spiderman_ , you can't be...I dunno, _this!_ "

Dagger pulls herself to the bars of her own cell, opposite Ava and Rhino's with Ka-zar sleeping fitfully beside her, and she tries her best at the cheerful smile that tugs at her mouth, though it cracks and splinters like the glass in her veins. "Yeah, dude, I mean...we can't just let them do this. They may be mystical masters, but we still can't let them do this."

"We're against the clock," comments Ava as she straightens, mocha skin flushed and sweaty from how much she'd fought and a myriad of bruises strike patterns across her collarbone, a telltale story of a fight lost. "They may have even lied about it to us, saying it would be in the next few days. It may have already happened and Danny -"

"Danny wouldn't," bites Luke, glaring across the gap towards the brunette and he tugs at the frayed edges of his shirt, sweat dampening around his collar from how he'd fought. A fighter still sits beneath his bones, waiting, poised to punch out. "Danny isn't like that. He'll see what happened - he always does."

"We can't bank on that, he -"

"Is the king of K'un L'un, but he's also a friend, Tempest's friend, _our_ friend," stresses the dark-skinned boy, hands folding into the bars so hard, that it activates his powers and he shudders from the pain as the electricity pulls and tugs at his muscles, turning them to sap and SG bounces forwards, grabbing his arm to hold him upright. Determination, fire and brimstone, sit like rocks in his eyes - un-moving and undeserved. "I've known him the longest and he wouldn't do this."

"If he wants to be king, he will. That's what she said, and he's trained for this all his life." Dagger lifts herself with the grace of a being long gone, of a god in her bones and wisdom in her eyes and when she speaks, it doesn't sound like advice or warning. It sounds like a story, something once gone in dust with whispers of _thunderbolt, thunderbolt, thunderbolt_. "He'll do what he must to protect those he loves."

Something sharp twigs and tugs at Peter, making him flinch as he remembers what he did for his uncle Ben, how he almost killed a man and would have followed down the same path if he hadn't remembered - _this isn't what he would have wanted_. He had fought the urge and like now, the urge to give up was strong, but he wouldn't be Spiderman if he gave up.

"Peter?"

"Hm?"

"I know that face," comments Ava, and even if she's a few cells down, he can hear the smile in her voice, and in turn, his lips twitch upwards too. "What've you got?"

"A recipe for disaster, à la Spidey; we'll be needing five guards, chains and and a sprinkle keys on the side. But first things first," and Sam knows he's not imagining the smile in Peter's voice turn brighter, flips wider with excitement and he turns his head when Peter's eyes connect with his, pretending he wasn't listening intently. "Amadeus, sock Sam in the nose."

"Huh -" is all Sam can say before pain blooms across his features and he yells out, alerting the guards.

* * *

The day stretches into night, stars blinking in and out of focus when the doors to the cell block open, and five guards, heavily armoured step out, chains wrapped around feet and wrists of the teenagers, devoid of Spiderman, Squirrel Girl, Dagger, Iron Spider and White Tiger. The guard in front tripped unceremoniously - coughing around a swear _just like Spiderman_ \- as he tugged a wrist.

Beside him, a girlish snicker exploded from behind the face armor. "Nice going, Peter."

"Ava, this is _heavy,_ okay? I don't know how _you're_ surviving," he threw over his shoulder as she locked the room with the knocked out guards inside, and he only stumbled forwards again when Sam gave him a sharp push, hissing an insult beneath his breath. "Hey, bucket-head, watch the merchandise!"

"Oh, would you just - _go!_ " Another sharp push was sent behind them, and he steps forwards again, and a soldier fits into his body like a glove; his shoulders straighten and his head sits higher on his shoulder as he slips into the act, with the others following his lead, tugging their friends by the wrists like prisoners.

They only stop when two guards round the corner, gazes sent straight ahead until a palm is pressed tightly against Amadeus' chest, pausing him in his tracks. "Where are you transporting these prisoners?"

"M-Me?"

"Yes."

Hesitation takes root in his bones and for once, the seventh smartest person in the world is stumped until instinct bites at his tongue. "Taking them outside to shoot and dispose of, s-sir," he hurries through the words, tucking away the gruesome image in exchange for an honorific to his 'superior' and nods when they carry on, shaking the words from his armor. He peels back when the guards disappear and they turn to him, shock pulling at their features. "hey, I freaked out okay? I don't know how things work here."

"Someone please remind me not to get on your bad side, Amadeus," comments Triton as he stares at the boy covered in metal and borrowed weapons. Amadeus ruffles under the stares and glides forwards again, and ultimately brings the others into action together.

Until the hallway is clear of guards and they can see a door yawn open towards the inside of the castle of K'un L'un, Peter stops them and levels a stare at them through the visor of the helmet, and his chest rises and falls in sporadic movements - _fear sits dormant in webbed veins._ "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Cloak, Dagger and Rhino, you two find the equipment. Tiger's amulet, Nova's helmet, all that jazz and teleport to us with them when you find them," he doesn't miss the way he slips into their superhero aliases, how he see's the world around him morph more into a mission than a field trip, "Tiger, Iron Spider and Powerman, you find whoever's got the collars and see if you can get them off. Nova, SG and Triton - you're with me. We're finding the ceremonial hall _and_ Tempest and Danny."

"What must we do, spider?" questions Ka-zar along with Flash, brows down turned but his fists have remained balls at his side, anger shaking them into volcanoes ever since they drugged and detained Zabu.

Spiderman places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a shake, as if to rattle the danger out of him. " _You,_ find your trusted pussycat, okay? We're gonna need him on our side if we get in a pickle."

"You mean brother."

"Tomato, _tomato_ ," mutters the spider, flapping a hand nonchalantly, before placing his curled fist in the middle and around him, they gather to place their own beside his, counting under their breath before breaking away to speed towards their designated areas. But, before they can bounce away, Spiderman catches White Tiger around the waist, and before she can talk, presses a kiss to her mouth after lifting the helmet, quick and sweet. Her eyes squeeze shut, trying not to open them once again. He pulls back and sends her a watery smile. "Stay safe, okay? I love you."

"I love you too, webhead," she murmurs, kissing him again, and running after Amadeus and Luke down a long hallway and twisting out of existence at the end after them. He leaps into action and slides in front of Sam and Triton, with Squirrel girl to his right, shoulders squared and eyes downcast. He passes a chain connecting to Triton's ankles to Squirrel girl and grabs the one to Sam's wrists.

"Webhead, what're we doing?" pipes Sam, who had been unusually silent through the entire exchange and Spiderman sends him a worried glance, before answering.

"We're pretending that we're transporting you, like Amadeus said, but _really,_ we're gonna put on a play about being guards for the ceremony," he answers between his teeth when he tugs him along after him, playfulness slotting between his shoulder blades like a friend long gone. His smile widens when he see's two guards approach them, completely at ease and not expecting a thing. "I've got a plan, like twelve percent but still a plan; we just need to find you two some costumes for the performance; so say hello to act two, scene three and four."

A few moments later, Triton and Sam are dressed in armor and the green-skinned boy is fiddling with the straps across his elbows, huffing his discomfort. "I do not see how you humans can wear such constricting clothes for battle when you are not _in_ battle," his hands delve under his chin, groaning as the strap catches on his skin, "you humans are quite peculiar."

"Let's leave it that way then, c'mon, I think we passed what would've been the ceremonial hall when we arrived," comments Sam, speeding away briskly down the hall and the other three follow him closely, staying in a diamond shape and watching out for impending soldiers turning wise to their rebellion act. Suddenly, as they reach the doors to a large hall, filled with chatter and excitement, Squirrel Girl gasps.

Turning, Spiderman grabs her shoulder, scared for whatever may have occurred in his blind points. "SG, what's wrong?"

"The-The collar...it's off. I felt it turn off."

"That means so is Tempest's, but she's not as sensitive to touch as you are," he answers, referring to the clandestine and infantile squirrel-like hairs that ran across her skin, "so she probably won't even think to use her powers, and even then, it'll already be ingrained into her not too."

He doesn't miss the way Sam's fingers curl, how Squirrel Girl's shoulders slump with the information, and he sighs, choosing now is not the time to delve into Tempest's demons from a life long-ago lived that none of them could hope to change. So he turns on his heel, directing his team like an army through the doors.

The space they're pulled into is wide and magnetic, with high balconies and seats spread around the wide, open space like a Colosseum, waiting for the lamb to be subjugated to the slaughter. Gold glitters in the walls, starlight poking out through every corner and cracking down the sides so much so, that it looks like a universe is folding into it's design, spitting unity and welcome. Across the ground floor, elders and mystics covered the seats whilst above, staring down in rapture and excitement, are the citizens that they had encountered on their arrival.

But the feelings didn't stretch towards them, didn't encase them with the softness it expelled like silk, and they slunk across the ground until they reached four points where they posted themselves like sentinels over the dormant floor, where neither Danny or Tempest stood. But one of the elders, none the wiser to them, never noticed the newest additions.

Across from him, above him on a second balcony, Spiderman saw White Tiger slink to the railing, passing a bouncing child as she stared down into the bowl, waiting. She'd found traditional K'un L'un clothing, black and white and blending in with the landscape just like a tiger. But when he saw the familiar sight of her black and white tiger outfit against her chest beneath the robes, he couldn't be more proud of her.

Across, above Squirrel Girl, he saw Powerman in black and yellow robes and he could hear the paws slinking across the balcony above and the tell-tale shift of a spear being unclasped and his rattled bones settled between his tensed muscles when he knew they were all there, ready and waiting, however devoid of Cloak, Dagger and Rhino.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts into silence, as if a pendulum has been swung and between Triton and Squirrel Girl, a thick door swings open and two elders glide through, flanking a familiar blond dressed in ceremonial green and yellow. His eyes widen in shock at his surroundings, stumbling, but the king in his skin refuses to back into the corner of a child and he continues forwards, until he reaches the center of the room. But his brows remain forever down-turned, forever confused as he moves to ask the elder what's happening when he seats himself and the door opposite, between Sam and Spiderman, slides open.

In every way, she resembles his equal, beside the collar still tucked around her neck like a noose. She stands in green and yellow, a slim, simple dress over her body with the tell-tale curl of a dragon on the bodice, whilst a thick cloak, covered in green and hemmed with yellow, sits over her hair, which resembles crazed, permed curls instead of the usual waviness it's known for. Then, Spiderman knows Danny knows naught of the plan and Sam's pain when she pulls back the hood and tear-stained cheeks lift into a shattered smile.

"Hello, Daniel," her voice is robotic and practiced but shaken, and she lowers into a kneel at his feet, hands folding on her knees in a practiced manner and Spiderman debates abandoning the plan in favor for grabbing Sam and pulling him from the room. "It is a pleasure to see you again."

"Tempest," his voice is barely a whisper, but a whisper can fill a silent hall as he drops in front of her, grabbing her face in his hands and wiping away at her tears, swiping away the only thing that shows she's broken. "Tempest, what is this? What happened? Where are the others?"

Sam bites a growl back into his chest. "They were no longer needed, m-my king."

Danny's eyes widen, and as he moves to speak, an elder stands and positions him between the two, pausing as Danny lowers his hands and the elder throws his own hands wide, turning upwards to the citizens of K'un L'un. "May the ceremony beg -"

He doesn't finish, when a sudden wave permeates the room, purging it of any words and a thick pin-stripped cloak spirals into existence. Cloak himself smiles under the hood as he throws out the sides of his portal, opening the dark of his trade-mark cloak to the world and out fall Dagger and Rhino, clutching stolen objects in death-grip fingers. Sam's already ripping off his armor, Ka-zar's flinging himself from the rafters and as Spiderman catches his web shooters gleefully, he can see the relief in Danny's eyes.

Sam catches his helmet and in his place, throwing the armor away like rag dolls, is Nova, blaring brighter than ever and Tiger is tugging on her mask in her full-body suit, emerald tiger amulet thrumming brightly. Dagger threw up her light blades and Ka-zar, Flash and Zabu flanked them, until the entire team circled around the center of the room.

Shock and relief, a deadly concoction, mix in Danny's bloodstream. "M-Master, what is the meaning of this?"

His master spits venom like it's his own saliva. "These _infidels_ are no longer needed, my king. They betrayed the city of K'un L'un by satirizing our legends on the sacred walls of the room of story," answers the elder, glaring over the bend of his nose at the heroes that outweigh him in numbers and determination. "And so, they have betrayed _you,_ my king."

"N-No, Danny, it's not l-like that." Tempest stutters around her words, grasping at Danny's arm desperately, only to be tugged back by an alert guard. Tears flood down her cheeks in fear, but the hold on her powers has gotten stronger and the wave she sends out never meets anyone; she doesn't even know she's done it. "P-Please Danny, we're your friends. That never happened."

"Silence, wind-child," she notices how his body straightens at the name, as the childhood fables under his fingernails unfold and he stares at her with a new light in his eyes, of childhood admiration of a hero that needs to be saved. "The ceremony shall continue as planned with the disease of these infidels gone from our sacred -"

"No," his voice is strong but his body isn't, as Nova drops from the air and wanders, as if lost or in a daze, towards the blond. Day and night, parallel opposites, but it does nothing to calm the quake in his ribs as he lifts his fists almost tentatively. "Danny...Danny, man, I don't wanna fight you, but if you try and marry her, I _will._ I-I'll hurt you."

"Nonsense! Ban them from our sight and from our city -"

"No," it isn't Nova or Tempest who pauses the elder in his threats once again, because Tempest is trying to break free and Nova is poised for a fight until Danny's hand lands on his shoulder, mouth closing around the command. "No, you will _not_ ban them."

Danny had never been one for anger, but it curled like an venomous monster in his hands when he turned to face his master, one of his oldest friend's in childhood with something akin to demons lurching in his doe-skin heart. The master stumbles back, as if suffered from a blow to the gut from Danny's glowing iron fist.

"Daniel, I _assure_ you -"

"And I assure _you_ , treasured elder, that may I remind you, these are my friends, my family away from my own and they will not be banished from a place where they should be welcomed like returning heroes," he unwinds like thread, as he glares at the man across from him and a select few elders that had been part of the ceremony from the wide expanse of them, slink in their seats as the tell-tale strength of the iron fist flares on Danny's tongue. "I did not realize what this ceremony was about; I was led to believe by _you_ , master, that this was a simple reflection meditation. So if anyone has betrayed K'un L'un, has betrayed _me,_ it was _you_."

Nova slowly lowers his fists and stares in wonder at the blond as he plucks Tempest from the guards arms, letting her fall into him gratefully before sending a glance to his people that stare in complete attention to every word he says. "My people, this ceremony shall not be carried out. Miss Tempest may be the fabled wind child of our people, but should not a person, regardless of their gender, class or race be allowed to stand on their own, with their own terms behind them. Should I not be allowed to lead this city into peace with my iron fist and nothing else? I am humbled to be your king, but if this is what I must do to become it," he turns down towards her, pressing a few curled strands from her eyes, a wide smile on his features as he lets her fall from his grasp, letting her be free as he pulls the cloak from her shoulders, "then I do not want it."

She stumbles back a few feet in shock, before she turns and her feet slide into a sprint, and she throws herself into the group that collect her like a lost toy, treasured and found. She feels Nova slide his arms around her instantly, digging his head into her shoulder and Dagger's whooping loudly, swearing at one of the elders foully when Danny orders a guard to take away the ones involved.

Then, his hand is being pulled and Danny is pulled into the circle along with her, and she clutches him close like a scared little sister to a brave big brother. Tears collect in her eyes and she does nothing to wipe them away. "Thank you, bandanna buddy."

"Anything for you, bandanna buddy."

Suddenly, Tempest is pulling him down and he believes she's going to kiss his cheek in gratitude, but her mouth slides against his ear, whispering silently and he pulls away with a wide smile, grabbing her hand and placing a soft kiss to the knuckles before turning to the roaring crowd of people. "My people," he yells, sending the entire hall silent with just his voice and he lifts their joined hands with a grin, "the wind child has declared that, marriage or no marriage, she will join our fair city in friendship, not matrimony."

The crowd flings themselves into an excited uproar and somebody behind them laughs with glee at the sight, before tugging Tempest back into the group hug. Vaguely, Danny can hear them warning her and laughing with her and all the while, Nova keeps a tight arm around her shoulders.

"Never get married, ever."

"Temp, you really should have _seen_ Nova. He was _totally_ going off on one."

"Hey, no I wasn't! I was concerned, so shut _up_ , webhead!"

Danny laughs at his friends until his oldest master plucks a hand across his shoulder, pulling him back to stare down with a wise smile over the rim of his glasses. Danny bows, ever the polite one. "I never doubted you for a moment Daniel, and even if I were not aware of this predicament," drawls the master lowly, sending a glance past the blond to the small brunette, clad in traditional clothing and arms that stop her from moving, however she doesn't look as if she wants to leave as Squirrel Girl bats at her hair playfully and they turn to leave. "Even _masters_ can make mistakes. You are wise, and I am glad."

"I am not wise master; as a king, I am meant to protect and serve, not force, and besides, she was never mine," he answers, turning to look at the wind-curled girl who bats the helmet off of Nova's head and holds it captive against her chest, laughing gleefully when he catches her around the waist and tugs it back. "Her heart belongs to another."

"Right you are, Daniel. We shall see you in half a year, my king."

"It has been a pleasure, master."

"Hey Danny, not that I don't _love_ your home or anything man, but I'm kinda craving a corn dog, so can we get moving?" Spiderman sings, rubbing a hand across his stomach and laughing, so with that, Danny catches up to his friends and joins them with their luggage and items on the plane when they get there in normal clothes and return home. By the time they get there, Fury is waiting with a raised brow, but none care because Tempest doesn't shrink away from the heat.

"I _knew_ you'd kids would get in trouble."


	19. xix

**Surprise - here's a Christmas gift for those of you that are still on here, still reading, or have not reached Christmas yet and you're filling the dreadful waiting period. Merry Christmas guys, and I want to tell you all that I'm not only thankful you're still reading (oh my _god!_ ) but I'm _so proud of you_. Christmas is probably the most stressful time of the year and the fact that you're able to read this is a miracle and I'm proud of all of you for getting through this and whatever stress you've gone through this year.**

 **This Christmas is going to be amazing, and thank you for reading. See you next time, wind-bearers!**

* * *

 **Chapter nineteen**

Who says the soul only

has one colour?

 _ **\- Joss Stone**_

* * *

Scouring rooftops becomes a past-time for wandering minds when no work is laid out in careful plans at her feet, filed like steel columns. Her arms are spread wide, non-existent wings sown into the clockwork of ruddy elbows and sharp angled fingers, taking flight on the air that glides beneath them. Music hums on a dormant tongue, and the wind slots itself like an old friend beneath her fingernails.

She doesn't notice someone's singing along until she stops.

The sound is slightly wavy and sluggish, as if thrown through water like a leaf, but it's still noticeable to be the same song she was humming - the same song she sang at school when she was four in a school choir. Her heart knocks against her ribs, when it sounds right up next to her ear, and tearful, broken by something other than the air. Tempest hurls herself in a full turn, arms thrown out in the defensive stance that sits like wild-flowers in her ribcage.

A few feet away, balancing on the paper-thin edge of the rooftop, is a figure, mirroring the way she'd thrown her arms out like a child to steady herself against the punch of the wind and Tempest catches it painfully in her throat. Milky white hair, the stuff that legends are weaved from, spills from a magenta bandanna tied around a large forehead, with thick burgundy goggles on top of it. It folds escaping tendrils back from a dark-skinned face, gaunt and hollow from pain once lived.

The girl turns to her and smiles, which stretches the nasty scars that stretch like fingers from her right eye, a clawed in hole with a white eye staring at her, haphazard claw marks folding over her jaw and her nose and eyebrow. She flinches in shock, and the girl slots her goggles over her eyes once again. "Pretty song," she drawls, lifting a gloved hand to snap a piece of rebellious hair away, "reminds me of being a kid."

"Who are you?"

"I'm a friend, wind-thief, please be still," she murmurs, placing a hand in a peace offering, but Tempest stares as if she's offered her a knife and the girl's shoulders lift with a silent laugh, but other than that, ice seems to collect in every crack of her skin. It folds between her collarbones and nestles deeper, rooting itself into her bones as the smile falls from her mouth, even if it were hardly there in the first place. "My name is Magenta."

Magenta's head tilts, spilling milk across her shoulder as she scrutinizes the alert brunette across from her, like a project waiting to be completed, and when she walks forwards, Tempest yells. "Don't! _Don't_ come any closer."

"I did say I was a friend."

"Not to me. What do you want?"

"You've grown," she murmurs once again, hands pressing along her jawline in slight admiration and although Tempest expects her skin to brittle, it smooths like grass along the ground, and she drags her worries by her heels in the presence of this nullified girl, a completely different person in one switch. Nothings sit in her chest and empty space collects in her eyes like a hole to something not quite human, not quite there. "You're still small, but you've grown _so much_."

Her teeth bare like knives on display, her fists sit light weighted rocks, even if inside her chest, the marble walls she's built erode stealthily like ice. "For such a bright name, you have a hollow personality. I asked you a question."

"It's one of my talents," she hums, and resumes her cat-walk across the teeth of the rooftop, like she belongs there and a sleepy smile, as if drugs swim like sirens in her veins, sits on her cheeks. She peers over her shoulder, scarred tissue sitting almost neatly on her face. "Do you wanna know something, wind-thief? I was sent here to kill you."

Something dark and cruel curls in her stomach like a lead weight, hot and heavy and _hurting_ , but she swallows the metallic taste on her tongue back down her throat, which opens and closes around graveyard words she'll never whisper. Something takes flight in her feet, tempestuous like her namesake, and suddenly, she's gripping Magenta's forearms with desperation she's never seen in herself.

Every titanium rod sits stoic and stiff in her body; her body is a skyscraper of fear as her heart tastes titanium and her stomach spits fire, sweat rolling across her knuckles instantly and she's glaring, no longer cowering. "Who sent you? _Why?_ How do you even know me? Why don't you kill me right now, hm?"

"So many questions, so little answers," her head tilts to an imaginary song, and Tempest shakes it's melody free so she's staring down at her, eyes glazed with something that makes her skin brittle, something that makes her believe more information and skill than dodging question lies dormant in her bones. Magenta picks secrecy like dandelions from between her hipbones, as they sway to the imaginary beat instead of her head.

"Then give me what answers you have," and she's so hungry, _starving_ for this, a sudden chance at knowledge about herself - why she dreams of a night behind glass instead of her mother's arms, why she is terrified of hospital rooms, why no-one knows of her existence, not even her parents. Complexities explode like supernovas in her chest, fear and hunger colliding in the middle as she stares, eyes wide. "Please, you can't just...just _tempt_ me like that, you have to tell me."

Innocence bleeds cursive across frozen cheeks, and the wind throws up a tundra in her skin when Magenta tilts her head, scrutinizing her and seeing something Tempest can't, and she pulls her hands from the girl's arms, hoping she didn't bruise her. "Please, I need to know. It's my story, and I don't know what happens in it. I - what is that?"

Damn her curiosity, but she bites down on her question and stares at Magenta's throat, where underneath the high-neck burgundy shirt that turns into a full-piece suit, is a thick, metal collar and her own hand drifts up to her neck, where she can still feel the bruising from the devices used on her in K'un L'un. Magenta smiles, ghostly and intangible, and mirrors the action, and Tempest flinches for her.

"I know those collars."

"Yes, wind-thief, you do."

She swallows her fear; however, her body trembles. "Then how do you know them?"

"Who do you think gave the priests of K'un L'un the equipment? or rather, who do you think supplied the rogues that imprisoned you and your friends?" Despite the sound of her words, there is no malice in Magenta's words, no anger or jealousy - nothing. Hollow bones rattle symphonies in her mouth like skeleton's hymns, and Tempest catches her throat on something that splinters inside of her like wood. "He's been watching you, Tempest. We all have. _I'm so sorry_."

The hollowness leaks out of her then, the emotions she's been holding back with iron chains and a collar around her neck slipping for a moment, like a mask out of place, but she's rigid once again as she hisses when pain filters across her spine and Tempest is tempted to glide forwards. She wants to fold the painfully coiled girl into her, fit her own head under her chin and let her know _it hurts, and that's okay_. It's a lesson recently learned and she's not educated enough on it to teach but _damn it,_ she'll do so to the best she can if it means Magenta no longer stands like a skeleton wrapped in pain.

"Who is _he?_ "

Magenta stands on alert, every line of her body hard and strong but her eyes drift around her, melting into the shadows for something. She shakes her head slowly, and Tempest nods, standing further on edge than before.

So, she changes her question. "What does _that_ do?"

Magenta picks and plucks at the collar once again, absentmindedly as she does so. "It keeps me and my abilities in check, in case I feel the need to do something drastic that doesn't stick to the outline."

"Your abilities?"

"I'm pretty much useless, if I'm honest," she murmurs, eyes casting a shadow across the gravel that litters the rooftop and something akin to nothingness sits humming in her chest. "I can mostly see auras; tell if someone's lying or not. But I've been known to... _infect_ , for a use of better words, when I get out of control."

Tempest swallows around hardened screams in her throat, as Magenta hums a ballad across her words when she feels the thrum of power - a warning shot in vibrations - flow against her skin from Magenta, like a wave against a cliff-face. It throws her back, and Tempest stumbles before regaining her footing, with new-placed fear in her lungs.

But it does nothing to soothe the sudden care she has for this girl, who expels nothingness and wholeness in one flow of aura energy. Something sharp twigs inside her, grating against the lining of her stomach and threatening to slice her down the middle, like a piece of paper, if she doesn't step forwards and with a much kinder heart and softer hands, grab Magenta in them. Magenta flinches, adverse to touch, and Tempest finds her own eyes staring back at her under burgundy goggles.

"Nobody is useless," temples build statues on her chest, weighing down her words - does she believe them herself? "I can promise you that. Can you tell me _why_ he wants me, whoever _he_ is?"

Magenta pauses, every nebula in her spinal chord crashing in patience for her answer, until the faintest nod comes from the girl, orders in her ear and fear in her bones. "You're _his_."

She steps back like she's been burned, folding into a snake. "I'm not _anyone's_."

"Yes, you are. You were always his, and always will be," Magenta no longer stands, with the _help me please_ , on her tongue and instead, a structured soldier relays a message to her. Her hands tweak at her collar again, lifting her throat for the world to see. "This collar, not only does it keep my abilities in check, it creates them. _I_ belong to him, Psyche and Blind Spot _belong_ to him - these are what give us our powers. But you... _you never needed them._ "

Her words lodge something ugly and deep in her throat, something that's never been a part of her but when these words, that whisper horror stories of her origin's almost ring true, feral teeth sit on the edge of Tempest's spine. "N-No. _No_. You're lying to me."

"I have no reason to lie, wind-thief," the soldier in Magenta's skin slides forwards, face morphed into a mask of nothingness once again and Tempest wonders if she ever really had a choice, collared or not, "you are his, every bit and piece of you is his work. Contrary to what you believe, what you see, you are his - and he wants you _home_."

"Then tell me who he is!"

"I _can't!_ " Magenta suddenly sprouts from her own tomb of skin, clawing desperately out of the hole that's been built for her until, with electricity ringing across her muscles, she's shoved back in - lost to the darkness in her heart. Her brow smooths, and her fingers flex - a perfect design with a battered heart, lionesses prowling in her veins. She folds every emotion carefully like stained glass and speaks again, "you know that you are not like the others."

"Of course I'm not; explain my dreams to me, Magenta."

"They are more apart of you then you think, wind-thief," her name never falls from her tongue again, only her code-name that has grown like weeds, "you are his shining beacon, his hope for a better world and he wants his property home. You know that those collars at K'un L'un could barely contain you, you know that you are not completely human. Whether you agree or not, wind-thief, you are his - and he is coming for _you._ "

Fragility weaves itself, knits itself across her abdomen and when Magenta grabs her arm, all softness gone from her hands, Tempest nearly snaps in two as her dreams break across her mind, a war exploding in cracked glass and glowing eyes as she broke men and herself. But fingers, webbed in green climb across her wrist and wrench it back until Magenta has one hand tied behind her back and a boy with fins glaring down at her.

Somehow, Tempest knows the soldiers in the shadows have retreated, leaving their comrade to her own fate. "I believe that you should release your hold on my _kanenm'nar_ before I break you," hisses the Attillanean, sharpened teeth piercing the night air and Tempest feels Cloak land beside her, curiosity behind the hood, "I am not above that, even if I am a hero."

"Triton, _enough_ ," calls Dagger, striding across the rooftop with the grace of a swan in her bones, and sending a look to Tempest, ("we'll speak about this later") she angles a look towards the white-haired girl, who struggles against the hold of the boy. Her hands land on her hips and the circle around her icy blue eyes glows harshly, pulsing in anger. "Alright kid, now I suggest you tell me why you were bugging my little sister and you tell me now."

Unlike Tempest, strangely, Magenta seems to not feel the loss of the extra presences or lack of obstruction in the air - unless this really is who she is, with venom on her teeth and a knife for a heart. "I'm not telling you anything, light-bearer."

Dagger wrinkles her nose at the nickname and with a swiftness that the air needs to catch up with, a light dagger is pressed against the score of a snaking scar down Magenta's cheek. She hisses and jumps back from the touch, but Dagger remains still. "The name is Dagger, and if you're threatening family, you _talk,_ " she presses the dagger closer, and Magenta stays still this time, "so why don't you listen to me and do it?"

"Dags," hisses Cloak under his breath, dark fabric curling tighter around his mobile form - but sharp eyes from years of observing are still working. " _Dagger_ , she can't. The collar. It's like the one in K'un L'un. It's probably prohibiting her from doing much of anything."

"I don't _care_ , she shouldn't -"

"Let her go," her voice is soft and shaken by the night's actions, by the fear that collects like dust in her chest and Tempest wonders how she even found the strength to speak - maybe it's the tears that sit behind burgundy goggles, however un-shed they may be. When Dagger sends her an incredulous look, she shakes her head, promising her words for another time and spears a glance to Triton. "Triton, let her go. Please. She can't do much more."

He hesitates around her, before his eyes narrow and his hands pull from her grasp. As soon as her skin leaves his, she's rocketing across the rooftop, throwing her body in a whirlwind and she skitters like a frightened animal to the edge. But something makes her pause, something inside Magenta - that is so inherently _her_ \- bites back at the collar, granting this small victory.

"Magenta."

She only gains a twitch of a shoulder.

"Magenta, we can help you - _all_ of us."

If she looked carefully, Tempest could almost see the infrastructures and temples crashing and burning in the collarbones of the aura-wreathed girl, and when her burgundy goggles are lifted from midnight skin, and one blind eye scrutinizes her or her aura, whichever one she see's first - the girl or the human. The only semblance of emotion is when Magenta sighs and turns, "be ready, that's all I can say."

She tilts off the building like a weight in the air, and none move forwards to grab her, even when they hear her feet skitter across a fire escape and out the other end of the alley, melding into the shadows she's made of. Hesitation sits like paper piled on top of the other between them - restless and easy to blow over in a moment's notice.

"She was gonna kill me."

"But she didn't," silences Cloak, when he see's the defiant nature of his adopted sister flare up, and the blond bites on her anger in favor for Tempest not bouncing away, flinching back into the practiced manner of a deserted child. He looks towards the brunette, dark lips twitching into a rare smile, "and that speaks volumes. Dagger?"

The blond peers up behind her fringe, puffing thick strands from her eyes and stares like a scorned child, as if she'd done wrong by jumping on the girl threatening 'family'. So she pulls and tweaks herself together, knitting herself piece by piece. "Day and night?"

"Darkness and light; you know that," he hooks an arm around her shoulders, finishing the familiar phrase between them and she presses her face into the crook of his neck, tired from the night's actions. She spears Tempest with a look, and the girl nods when Cloak turns to her. "It's late, we should find Tiger and Tempest, you need to talk to Fury. This was only meant to be a routine search mission for Blind Spot."

"Will do, thanks," she answers, and when Cloak, after a few beats, opens the portal through the dark of his cloak to the Triskellion, only then does Tempest turn to Triton with confusion clouding her dark eyes. "Triton, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course, wind-thief."

"What does _kanenm'nar_ mean?"

"It means sister."

* * *

The screens fizzle, life depleting from their mechanic bodies as the video from the rooftops shortens out, leaving nothing but static on the screen. A dark shape hangs over it, a pendulum of hardened shoulders and white knuckles as Magenta sits calmly behind the man. But her fingers shake on her lap, twitching like a disease rots them. Once upon a time, a disease once did.

"Report."

She rattles them off with no hesitation. "The blond is protective, rash and quick to judge, whilst the cloak is logical in all aspects with little to no fear when in combat. The green one however, is much like the blond, but he lacks modesty and originality."

"The wind-thief."

The collar crackles when she doesn't speak. "She is scared, just like always."

Something akin to pleasure fills the room when he huffs a laugh from a feeble chest, and wheels scratch along the floor, screaming with rubber against marble and Magenta only hunches a shoulder when the voice suddenly speaks from a new direction in the shadows, just next to her ear. "You said I wanted her dead."

"That is true sir," she answered, staring ahead with unseeing eyes, twitching hands folding underneath her legs to keep them still, "although I was only ordered to send the message, I believed that this would ensure the best possible outcome for her co-operation."

"How so?"

"By thinking that you wanted her dead, she is more likely to fight; but this is when she would use her powers as a crutch, thereby depleting her energy and becoming supple in our grasp when she is drained," something bites in her, begging for her to reel the information back in like a fishing line when the man plucks a cat-like grin from his fingers, chuckling lowly. "She will be yours soon, sir."

"Silly girl - she's always been mine. In three days, she'll be _home_."

"Of course, sir."


	20. xx

**This is part one of a three part thing, and I gotta warn you guys, there's quite a bit of swearing in it, so if that's not your thing, I suggest you sorta paint over it with like 'fudge' and 'dingle-swat' and stuff. Anyways, guess who literally watched the newest avengers and got hit with a wave of inspiration.**

 **Yeah, that was me and I am absolutely buzzing. Again, thank you for all your comments and support and your messages, they're awesome and if you have any concerns, hit me up here or on my tumblr. Thank you !**

* * *

 **(** **Part One** **)**

 **Chapter Twenty**

To him who is in fear, everything rustles.

 _ **\- Sophocles**_

* * *

 _Something went wrong._

Her heart pounds like a child in a corner, restless and brooding when she pulls back from a well-aimed punch. Her eyes round in fear; her stomach twists into braids. She's paired with Venom tonight, and across from her, a girl with the same white hair as Magenta picks her claws across his chest, purring like a kitten.

"You're not _my_ spider," she growls, and Tempest fights around the rope that's tied around her legs whilst Venom remains completely immobile, positively enraptured by the kitten's presence as she licks her lips. "But you're still just as... _delectable_."

For all his IQ points gathered from years of classes, Venom's brows scrunch and he whips around, tugging elegant wrists at her spine and ignoring the comment she purrs when he does so. "Stop trying to mess with my head - Spidey already has a girl, anyways."

"That _atrocity_ of a feline is nothing compared to me, my dear little symbiote," her words curl like a cat's tail, and she never shies from showing the sharp teeth she's been gifted with, nor the physique under the black suit. But suddenly, that impressive physique is flexibly pushing over Venom's shoulder, slipping her entrapped wrist like butter from his and she smiles. Her legs kick out, throwing him across the rooftop with ease, and she swings her bag of glittering eyes tauntingly from a now-released wrist. "As demonstrated, obviously."

Suddenly, a hiss spikes up from her throat when a foot plants itself into her spine, agile and efficient. The bag of stolen pearls and gems slips from her grasp and Venom swipes it from the ground as, agility that shouldn't be possible, allows the blackened cat to spin on her hand into an upright position. Tempest huffs a breath as she hovers off of the ground slightly. "All that air in your head was probably a stroke of luck for me, don't you think so?"

The cat smirks behind a black mask. "You're getting your humor from my spider, how quaint."

"He isn't yours."

Her brow turns down, never marring a wrinkle onto porcelain skin. "He will be."

Brown eyes roll in exasperation, and she levels a hand at the duffel bag, glittering with stolen treasures tucked inside, and watching as the girl twitches slightly in morbid anger from her missing prize. "Well, I know something else that isn't yours anymore; in fact, neither ever were. But I have a question for you, Black Cat," murmurs the brunette, as Venom folds his arms around the duffel bag possessively, though he cuts his eyes to the shorter of the duo. _Something is definitely wrong tonight._ "What's happening tonight?"

The cat snorted. "What are you talking about?"

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about," prodded the brunette, fire-laced words lining her throat, ready to fly out in anger, even as she watched Venom press at his communicator in distress. The entire night, villains and petty thieves alike had suddenly inked out into the night, creating mayhem everywhere, and Black cat was none the different to them. As soon as one crime was dealt with, two more appeared, so much so that no-one could be contacted, unless during a fight with garbled words. "No-one's available, even the damn _Avengers_ are on their ropes end so what's happening?"

It's hardly noticeable, like a stain on a shirt of the same colour, but her smile tweaks with deadliness leaking through the corners and she seems to pick knives from between her teeth with accuracy. Her tongue slides across night-painted lips, and Tempest's abdomen lights on fire. "I guess it's just not your lucky day then."

Suddenly, five marks of pain score down her arm and Tempest screeches, only to swallow it when similarly, a foot is placed into her chest and she's thrown back, swallowing her anger. _Claws?_

Pain shoots through her abdomen when a heeled boot rams into it, and she can taste her own blood as she skids across the rooftop. She's only allowed a few moments to breathe when Venom manages to catch her with his symbiote tentacles, snapping around her black clad legs like searching fingers, but her claws slice across the writhing bodies.

But it's all she needs.

As Black Cat slides her claws down in an elegant arch, fire bleeds over Tempest's skin and she mirrors Black Cat's earlier agility work - spinning on her back and kicking out to stand, whilst effectively smacking the kitten in the face. Dirt collects across porcelain skin and Venom straps the girl down, splicing tentacles criss-crossing over her form and making sure to encase her hands, so as not to let the girl free her grappling hooks.

She struggles against her restraints as both Venom and Tempest pause over her, and Venom dangles the stolen items enticingly above her, even chuckling when she twitches harder. But Tempest's mouth sets into a thin line that will garner a wrinkle with time's weight on her shoulders, and her hands sit on her hips, every bit an authority figure. "I'm going to quote a one-eyed man and say you have one chance," she murmured, cutting her eyes sharply at the white-haired vixen, "what's going on?"

When the girl stayed quiet, and Tempest's top lip curled in rare anger, Venom whistled low. "Kitten, your luck just _seriously_ ran out."

"I don't like you." Sharply, Tempest's foot kicked upwards, knocking into Black Cat's jaw like a rock with an audible crack and instantly, the girl slumped unconscious, head dipping low into her chest and eyes slotting closed. Slowly, Venom shrugged the tentacles off of the unconscious girl - almost in reluctance, if Tempest were less stressed - and after webbing the girl in a cocoon, slid his eyes to Tempest. "Remind me to not piss you off, shorty."

"I'm stressed, my bad."

"I'll say, that was kinda kick-ass," answered a new voice, but it instantly calmed Tempest's nerves as he dropped beside her, nova helmet and all. Nova grinned, though it shifted to a grimace when he caught sight of the webbed girl that Venom was currently hanging like an ornament from an over-hanging lamplight that arched just above the rooftop. "Jeez, she really got on your last nerve of the night."

"'Got on?' she danced on it!" laughed Venom as he jumped from his perch beside the shorter male, crossing his powerful arms and pulling away the symbiote mask, pride beaming in cerulean blues. "I'm kinda proud."

"You guys okay?" Iron Spider came down the other side of the building with White Tiger in tow, who instantly snickered at the sight of Black Cat curled up in webbing, batting at her immobile form as she did so, like a cat at yarn. Suddenly, as the adrenaline died down in her veins, Tempest hissed and grabbed her arm, pulling it away to reveal bloodied fingers and groaned.

Instantly, Tiger slapped her hands over her nose - the tiger in her blood being prime for the scent of prey, and turned away from the girl as Iron Spider passed a hand over her shoulder, blue light curling around the limb and assessing the danger. He heaved a sigh of relief as Venom webbed the cuts like bandages. "They aren't deep, thank god, but you'll need to clean them when we get back to SHIELD. There looks to be gravel inside of it."

"We should probably call the others," suggests Nova, and Tiger taps at her wrist instantly, "we can get Iron Fist to heal that up and we can strategize a plan to deal with these guys like the freaking heroes we are. We are _awesome_ , so this is our chance to prove it!"

"Oh look at that, bucket head's using the benefits of training for once."

" _Please,_ just call your damn boyfriend."

Her nerves slow like water as Tiger laughs, and she can hear Spiderman's calming voice from the communicator. She can see Flash also relax as the world settles into tranquility, a rare break in the chaos that had broken the night into two. With sudden softness, a sharp contrast to the anger that had pooled like adamantium in between her ribs, she turned to Iron Spider. "What about you, A? You haven't got any cuts or bruises, right?"

"No, my armor's good - just a few superficial bumps that a little tinkering won't fix."

"Hey, what about me?"

" _You_ already get most of my attention, and hey, you've got that weird, Nova healing thing going on. You're fine, you baby." Nova chuckles lowly at the joking of her tone, folding her into a quick hug that sends her snickering and Tiger is pulling him off of her as the others arrive, one by one. Instantly, Tiger's cornered by Spiderman as he anxiously searches her for bruises and marks before moving onto the rest of his teammates like a concerned parent.

They gather in a circle, and Tempest can basically feel how much this night has effected them. They're flushed and gasping for breath, and Dagger has a long cut across her stomach, slicing her across the middle and dried blood stains her white costume. Squirrel girl has a nasty bruise on the apple of her cheeks and she's limping on a foot, leaning heavily on Powerman's shoulder.

Tiger has a pulled shoulder and Ka-zar is slashed from head to toe, whilst the others collect paper cuts and lungs drowned in dust like it's a bad habit. But they're strong, as Dagger straightens her stomach and Squirrel Girl puts her foot down, whilst Tiger stretches her arms and Ka-Zar bites back his hisses when he stretches a cut or two. They stare at Spiderman, who still seems completely immobilized by the night, much like a scared teenager would be.

But he seemed to snap out of it when, impeccably soft, Tiger spoke. "Spidey, what do we do?"

"We figure out what's going on," he answered, placing a hand on Iron Fist's shoulder as he did so and leveling a gaze at the blond.

"A rolling stone gathers no moss."

" _Riiight_ , and we're gonna roll. We need to figure out what all these bad guys have in common, why they all suddenly chose tonight to get on our nerves so much, the avengers got side-tracked," he murmurs, hand pausing under his chin as he spoke, brow turning downwards like a broken city, "I mean, it's anything but a coincidence - this was planned."

"And by someone with a lot of power and connections," adds Tiger, clutching herself around the arms as she tries to banish the scent of blood from her nose. Vaguely, Zabu growls low in his throat, even at his brother.

"Yeah, but it's just the question of who," said Dagger, turning her gaze around the ground like a terrified child, and Triton placed a calming hand on her shoulder in mild concern for the blond when the glow of light around her eye thrummed with life. "What do they want, I mean, they aren't doing this for the thrill, right?"

Everybody flinches when her voice reaches a crescendo of heightened notes, when it cracks around her words like fear incarnate has struck her bones. Cloak visibly cringes at the sound as his friend, his _sister_ , seems to spew terror from the dormant pocket it steals in her chest, heaving heavily. So he burrows her close, tucking her gently like he's used to when he can feel the oncoming signs of a panic attack.

Tiger slides a hand down her arm in comfort, and fixes her gaze at her when the blond peers up from her brother's embrace. "Of course there's a reason - we've said, it's far too coordinated. Spidey, it couldn't be Harry -"

"No, anyone but Harry."

"You don't know that," murmurs Powerman, placing a hand on Spiderman's shoulder only to have it shrugged off. His mouth folds downwards into a frown, even though he still looks at him from behind the sunglasses. Then, he turns to the group. "What do they have in common, besides choosing tonight to get on our nerves?"

"Well, we've met more of those guys that are to do with Blind Spot and Psyche tonight," pipes up Squirrel Girl, lacing a few fingers through the bristles of her tail, a comfort technique that has bred itself deep enough into her bones to become unconscious. "There was a girl with a _hijabi_ , a Japanese boy with tattoos everywhere and loads more! Hundreds, and they wouldn't let us leave until Spidey dropped in to give us a hand."

Spiderman shrugs, a pleased sound pulling from his mouth at the praise, but Tempest pauses around the edges, time sleeping in her blood as her mind picks and prods at dots and keys until they connect, and her eyes explode open. Her chest heaves with the sudden realization and she turns so fast, the wind has to catch up.

Across the jungle of Manhattan, with arching skyscrapers and windows blinking in and out of existence as people turn their lights on and off, just on the shore of the docks, the twisted Triskellion pokes over the ridges. But the air feels still around it, creeping and lying in wait and she notices - no lights are on. No air crafts hover idly. Not even the Tri-carrier can be seen, just a vague metal block on top of a vague metal block, darkened by the storming clouds.

"The Triskellion," she breathes, hands fisting into her hair and when Venom puts a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to stare at him, she points out towards it, biting her lip as she can see the numerous ships - as black as the water that crashes against the building - paused in waiting at it's bay. "The Triskellion. They're after the Triskellion."

"Temp, that's a big jump."

"No. No it's not," she hisses, and she imitates the movement of Magenta, pausing low and sweeping her eyes around the area, pausing to feel any shifts in air or midnight-black figures inking out of the shadows, just like she's been trained. But none appear, and she folds her fear in her words, shaking like carefully constructed footholds. "You guys said it yourselves - everyone's out, distracted and away from the base. They wouldn't let you guys leave, and look at it! It's _dead,_ there's no lights - nothing. There's _nothing_ , and that's _not_ SHIELD."

Finding the realization is like trying to stop a train crash with their bare hands, and somebody growls deep in their throat, feral and _loud_ enough for everyone to spring into action. It's sudden, but Cloak's throwing open the flaps of his trademark cloak and swallowing Dagger, Tiger, Iron Fist and Triton into the darkness, spiraling away to the Triskellion. Tempest, Nova, Venom, Spiderman, Iron Spider and Squirrel Girl leap rooftops and climb buildings, whilst Powerman, Ka-zar and Zabu and Rhino hit the ground on foot towards the Triskellion.

The air breaks around the Triskellion when they've all reached it, like a waterfall on the rocks and something like fear cracks along Tempest's spine, splintering it apart with it's weight. She pockets courage in her heart, hoping it will bite back against the sting of the overwhelming fear that sits inside it at what might be found in the metallic body of the Triskellion.

Pausing along the crackled edges of the group, electricity sparks when they all touch on the shore and the tower lights, fire pushing along it's wires and setting the lights to blinding. The group flinches back, before Spiderman sighs, almost bored. "They're gonna make it difficult."

White Tiger strides forwards and with elegance written into her muscles, cracks her knuckles. "We can _handle_ difficult."

Every doorway opens at their fingers, and Tempest feels her mind pull back to the numerous bedtime stories and children's fables tucked behind her teeth, to the lessons of _never enter the giant's lair_ pulling from her eyes like sleep. But the stories are just stories and the giant's lair is their home and it's not slipping from their fingers, not yet. So when light's flash down certain hallways and Spiderman punches through a vent, she follows on instinct.

Shadows creep in every corner, finding a way to hiss and twist into monstrous shapes of men patrolling the hallways beneath them, on their hands and feet through the ventilation system, whilst the heavier sets of their group remained on foot throughout the Triskellion.

An army wrapped in darkness hovered below whilst above them, the SHIELD trainees scoped their surroundings and when a room, void of any people or cameras was found, Spiderman kicked through it and one by one, each hero dropped in.

A pregnant pause fell through like a rock through water and Spiderman straightened. "Alright, we're gonna split up first of all an -"

"Hey! Whoa," interrupts Nova, throwing his hands wildly over his head in concern. "Webhead, do you _not_ watch the horror movies? I'm not taking any chances with this one!"

Venom shuffled gently towards Nova. "I'm with the bucket on this one to be honest - I'm all game for tackling the enemy, but not when creepy mutants are wandering about."

Spiderman slaps a hand to his forehead, groaning into it. "I respect your opinions, but I'm stressed so I'm just gonna ignore you two and hope for the best. The Triskellion splits into three main parts throughout - bottom, middle and top - and we _have_ to split up to scour it all. Tiger and Temp, you're coming with me. Venom, Fist, Iron Spider and Triton, you head to the bottom level to scope out the operatives and get everyone out to safety. SG, you're with PM and Rhino when they reach the middle, where we are right now, so lock your coordinates. Nova, Cloak, Dagger, Ka-zar and Zabu will go to the top and because it's the biggest, split into two and three."

"Spidey, what're we doing?"

As the group departs one by one to their designated areas, through the ventilation system or the door, Spiderman pointed to the two. "Us three, we're going to the root of this whole _She-bang_. We're heading straight to Fury's office; that's where all the files and dangerous 'pew-pew' stuff is so whoever's scheduling this is orchestrating from there," then, the spider lowers and cups his hands beneath the open ventilation cover and they can hear the smile that peels open in his words, "Ava, if you would."

She snickers behind her mask and places her foot in his hand, "I thought you'd never ask," and she lifts herself gracefully into the small space, with Spiderman situating himself behind her and Tempest following closely when she lifts herself into the air.

It doesn't take long to reach the vent that breaks open in Fury's office, and even though the room's dark, Tempest's skin bristles because there's _no Nick Fury_ in there, and she shrinks back, folding into the coward that's she's tried to smother for months. Something breaks, impossibly small inside of her because there's something - something not quite human in the air and it sends a tidal wave of fright rolling through her that immobilizes her bones. So when Tiger and Spiderman fling themselves through the metal mouth of the vent, fearlessness coating their skin, she shrinks back, burrowing her head lower because she knows _that scent on the wind_.

A moment later, before either of them can speak, she hears a loud thud and she flinches violently. She doesn't know where the memories appear from, why they rise from the amnesia that's dormant in her mind so suddenly, but she remembers the man that had held the gun to her in her dreams and she remembers the scent of his cologne, so much, she swears she can smell it. Her hands fold over her mouth to muffle the fear that builds in her lungs when she hears someone drag them across the ground, unconscious bodies slumped like pillows with the trademark squeal of wheels.

"Where's the third?"

Her eyes squeeze shut and he ankles start to slip and slide against the vent, and only when she feels a hand on her wrist, too fast for her wind powers to sense the shift, dig into the vent and pull her out, does she knows she's in trouble. She squeaks in fear and crumples in on herself, every practice and lesson fading away to sweat on her skin as she shields herself from the piercing blue eyes that stare, almost in adoration of her, much like the child she's tried to banish.

"Tempest," the figure breathes, and under the crackling lights, she crackles herself - breaking apart at the seams at the voice she's heard so many times in her nightmares, but she doesn't know where from. Wheels squeal against the ground, and when she opens her eyes, they're immediately drawn towards the wheelchair underneath him, whilst the blue eyes stare at her under reddened brows, slightly marred with blood. His lips tweak upwards in a half-made smirk, quirking red whiskers idly. "Welcome home. Jupiter, let her sleep."

The boy that holds her, Jupiter, a six-ft giant Japanese boy with tattoos that cover every part of his face and body, stares at her with eyes that remind her of buzzards and soon, as the doors slide open and she can see her friends being tugged in by their limbs, sleep envelopes her, just like always.

* * *

The world flows into focus one sense at a time, with the repeated thrum of _something went wrong, something went wrong,_ reverberating in her skull like a punch. Copper tasted sour on her tongue and thick metal was wrapped around her wrists, tight and constricting, but she couldn't see them, at least not yet. All her energy pooled into merely opening her eyes, and when she did, her heart lurched.

Metal rusted on the nails of the wall, that's what instantly drew her too it. But rust didn't belong in such a technological room, with advanced computer screens and a raised platform that she was lay on her side on. The lights stung the back of her eyes like bee needles in her retina's and she hissed, pulling her eyes closed. But the buzz and whir and hum of the machines almost lulled her back to sleep, back to faked unconsciousness when she heard the tell-tale wheels squeak.

"I know you're awake," calculated words hit her ear-drums and she flinches on impact, of a multitude of crescendos of nights spent staring out of a glass tube towards a pair of blue eyes that seemed nothing but _ravenous,_ "you can sit up, no-one will hurt you here. My name's Leon Queen."

 _Liar_ hums low in the bars of her vocal chords, but nonetheless, with the strength of an army in her bones, she pulls herself to a sitting position on her knees, head bowed to stare at the shackles around her wrists. Unlike before, unlike previous times where she's been shattered, she doesn't cry for release - her tongue stays dormant.

It's moments later, as a screen crackles to life and spreads it's eyes across the floor towards her, she hears the tell-tale squeak of wheels and flinches back as if burned by the contact. When they stop before her, screaming with resistance, she can almost feel the heat from his glare, can feel the vibrations of his broken and gnarled chuckles through the air.

"You truly are an enigma," he mutters, and any faked kindness from before, any promises spat in deception, dissolves from his words and if she peers up like a child underneath his hair, she can see his knuckles turn white on the wheelchair. "You try and act so _tough_ , but when truly faced with a challenge, you fold back into the coward you really are, don't you? But then again, that's all _you_ know, isn't it?"

His laughs turns louder, _maniacal_ , when she doesn't answer, reaching volumes that splinter her ears apart, and she tries to tug back, but the chains keep her grounded to the floor unless opened by a hand-print, high enough for a wheelchair. Even if cowardice rings true, like a tattoo on her skin, unrecognizable fire lifts in her chest as he leans forwards, malice sitting squarely like ruin between his teeth. He fans the flames as he invites her further into the heat of his voice, using words as a rope to drag her after his blood.

"You know, I never thought I'd find you - after all these years, suddenly you pop up, some frail, fragile little girl taken into Spiderman's little group," his chokes around his words, and the only word Tempest can fathom is _crazy_ and _mentally ill,_ knowing little of multiple personalities and schizophrenia but somehow, it fits. "I'll admit, I never thought it possible for you to gain this much control over your powers - none of the others are like you. That's the sole reason I want you, the only reason, or otherwise I'd kill you."

"Where are they?"

She grinds her teeth on wolf-skin and dust, biting back against the growl that sifts through her skin; a tidal wave of fury flashes on her shoulders, waves crashing against a rock as memories of what they did, what _he_ did, pull and twist into unimaginable horrors - so much so, her memories are no longer hers. Tempest is split, between wind-thief and a girl she's never met.

He grins, as if he's won a prize, when she speaks and cracks his knuckles. "So she talks," he hums, and taps his fingers in a code - _Fibonacci,_ if she remembers Wizzer's lessons and Nova's teasing - and he tilts his head in morbid curiosity. "They'll be along, but first, I'm talking to you," something snaps his hand forwards, mechanical and quick, but it clamps around her chin all the same, and she's staring at a man with red hair, blue eyes and a feral grin to match. Soft pokes from the corner of his mouth, and her heart thrums when she can see the crusted red dried on his bottom lip - _it's blood_. "It's so strange, how much I admire and hate you at the same time. I mean, you put me in this _damn_ thing that night, remember? Or I guess not."

The wheelchair shakes when he throws his body to gesture to it, keeping his fingers locked on her chin so hard it starts to bruise. Tempest grits her eyes closed, not wanting to look at the man but he wrenches her back to face him.

 _"Where are they?"_

"Don't want to face what you did?"

" _Answer_ me."

"You know, I -"

Fire be damned, supernovas explode in her stomach when he twigs his hands free from her skin, and feral teeth finally fill her face, on show for the world to see the animal that shifts her skin to hackles. Claws grow as her nails and the chain groans when she throws her hands out to try and grab him around the throat, to branch her fingers around him and turn him to dust but metal constricts her and she settles for explosions in her words instead.

"How dare you, how _fucking_ dare you!? You think you're the only person whose lost something, whose ever lost anything," she bites back at the man who tore her to shreds, who killed a little girl in exchange for a monster wrapped in her skin. Tempest feels her body crack and splinter, but she knits herself together - not forever, but it will do. "You don't know anything about loss. You think you can take it out on me? You don't _get_ to do that!"

There's no familiar call to power, no trumpet to pull the wind to her side - there's no trombone to signal the announcement for war, but Tempest knows this intimate feeling all the same. She's quick, she's agile as much as she is a slip of a tornado and tornadoes can level cities. "You don't get to blame me, Queen! I know what I am; I'm some lab experiment that - although you _stole me_ \- got loose and you lost your legs in the damn crossfire! All my life, I thought my parents abandoned me but you don't see me throwing a tantrum, because you take your goddamn pain and you deal with it!"

She remembers, with the sudden influx of memories that encroached upon her at just the sound of his voice, at just the smell of this cologne - this man is everything that ties her world together, and she's ready to pull it apart at the seams, pull _him_ apart.. She remembers her death, she remembers being tossed together again like Frankenstein's monster and injected with her wind powers and her memories and her _face_.

God, what that face must look like now, twisted and angry and fear written for all to shy away from - she's rubbed raw, ripped up and cut at the edges, every frayed edge on show and she's never felt more alive. "Nobody wants your damn excuses! You killed a girl and rebuilt her - thousands of children, to make your own damn super soldiers! You don't deserve your legs, you don't deserve pity! You -"

The hand that connects to her face sends her sprawling, and instant tears collect in her eyes, brought from the pain and the confusion and the _amnesia_ that's been in her system ever since she escaped, ever since she broke free of her restraints. And Queen is above her, face glowering in annoyance as he sighs, almost bored by the power surge of emotion that should have stirred up a whirlwind in her lungs.

"Shut _up._ "


	21. xxi

**Hope you guys enjoy this chapter, quite a bit happens in this chapter and we finally learn the extent of Tempest's backstory and what it really entails. There's also some angst and I believe this is the second or third to last chapter of 'Volatile,' so I'm pretty antsy. Also, as a side note, this chapter in 6,234 words _alone_ , oh my god.**

 **I've decided there _is_ going to be an impromptu sequel - I'll call it 'Caim' and you can search what that's called on the internet. I won't post the details until the final chapter. Enjoy guys! **

* * *

**(** **Part Two** **)**

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

I'm not afraid of storms,

for I'm learning how to sail my ship.

 _ **\- Louisa May Alcott**_

* * *

Storms that churn in her chest die down as her cheek splinters with hot heat, blooming down her throat and she sits, meeting fire-breathing eyes that split her in half. Sitting back on her hands, her mouth slots closed, ignoring the tears that tug their way down her face.

A pleasured, cracked smile pockets deception in the corners like wildflowers in spring, and he nods a head of reddened locks. "Good girl, now then - we won't go on with the pleasantries or what needs to be done, but what's going to happen is _you're_ going to listen, and _I_ am going to talk, alright, Miss Harlow?"

Recognition flutters across her throat like a moth in a cage, and she chokes on her lungs in shock, because it's something so intimate, yet she doesn't know why. Her head pulls up, a doe caught in headlights as Queen laughs around his words.

"W-What?"

"Oh my, this is truly glorious."

"What did you say?"

"You really don't know," he answers, and shuffles forwards and even though he's far away, even though he's on the other side of the raised circle platform, she skitters back, as far as he chains will allow - just like always. His hands play with the ring on his finger, twirling it and twiddling it until he pauses, feral teeth on show. "The girl, you were created from. I know you remember now, but you don't remember all of it. Do you want too?"

 _Anything for a name,_ she wants to whisper, to spit out in fury and to scream from the bottom of her soul but she's been told to be quiet, and Tempest is known for silent winds pulling her veins into knots. So she keeps her throat closed around dandelion words, and Queen merely shrugs, swinging on the wheelchair towards the cacophony of monitors that stretch into the metallic sky.

"You know you're not like the others - you aren't really human, if we're getting into technicalities," his fingers prod and dance across keyboards, the faint clacking setting her teeth on edge and her fingers diving into the folds of her uniform - the uniform he made her wear. So her hands pull away and try to rest anywhere other than what's deemed his, but then again, these hands are his too. "But what happened, is that she came to us as a sick little girl. She died at age eight because of miscalculations and the effect of her powers on her nervous system but, we were able to preserve her consciousness."

As he twists past, he presses two fingers to his temple, but all Tempest can see is the barrel of a gun against bloodied skin and he turns back to another monitor. "By preserving her consciousness, we gained her memories, her powers and her DNA. We created a clone, organic in most forms but in other parts of you, there's extraterrestrial coding that made you more... _adept_ , at handling the procedure than the others. When she would've been twelve, the lab got flooded by agents and you basically, woke up and escaped. But, in all legalities and DNA results, you will be seen as Bonnie Harlow, a dead eight year old girl from Australia."

Bonnie.

 _Bonnie_. Clandestine fingers curled like vines across her throat, over her lungs in a deafening embrace that clutched all life in fragile complexities. Something snapped like twigs in the dirt of her hips, in the seeds in her stomach and a forest, sprouted from sudden shock and relief, overwhelming in all words, grew until she could feel canopy leaves brush against the back of her teeth.

But the flowers wilted and the trees turned to autumn bare when she realized she was _never Bonnie Harlow_. The Australian girl, no matter how much of her resided in the folds of Tempest's skin, she was every bit someone else's child, someone else's friend - Tempest thought she was only given her powers _back_ , not a child's _entire being_. Tempest and Bonnie weren't alike - she knows, because the memories she already had show Bonnie to be welcoming, open and brave, whilst Tempest wilted in the gaze of others and hid when scared. Bonnie was a child in the sun and Tempest was a teenager with a broken cobblestone trail of homeless shelters and borrowed lives behind her. _Bonnie, I'm so sorry._

So she accepted _tempest, tempest, tempest_ into her skin, accepted that the wind was hers and that Bonnie, no matter how much she was built from her, was never that little girl but she'd do right by her memory and hopefully, her eight year old self would be proud of her. She bit her tongue against her anger, and stared at Queen as he pulled up a file.

Staring back at her, was the same file she'd seen in the dream - her memory - in Doctor Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum. It showed her in early developments, her growth until she reached 'prime examination,' with everything Bonnie held dear to her tucked into Tempest's design. But no more records were found by the time Bonnie would have turned twelve, and Queen turned back to her.

"You're the most astounding of the Ultimatum Project, since you took so well to the experiments, so here's what we're going to do," she doesn't bother trying to call the wind to her chest, to throw it out in a defense attack and blind his lungs in long strokes - the cuffs around her hands won't allow her too anyways, "We're going to leave SHIELD and transport you to a base and test on you, until we crack you open and shed you down to the very last atom, where we'll find out what really makes you so good at controlling your powers."

She doesn't fight when his fingers clutch her around the chin again, and force her to stare at him. An almost-ball of worry forms between his brows when he taps her cheek, but he only chuckles when she flinches back from the touch; sure she's still in the land of the living, and although her heart beats, she's a universe away.

"Seems I may have broken you a little bit. That's a good way to start cracking you open - form some fissures first."

"Where are they?"

He pauses at her gaze when he moves to wheel away, to leave her on her knees with this new information, and he quirks a smile. "Now I see how he knew you were like him, how stubborn you are," he chews on the edges of a bellowed laugh, spearing his eyes towards her, watching as her eyes round as even more information is placed in her lap, "Coulson always did have an eye for things."

"W-What?"

With the power he holds over her like a pendulum, and although he wheels away, he continues. "After the Captain gained his super soldier serum abilities, the government had to keep trying. Over and over again, and though it's true that it never worked again, they got some things right," he tucks away her expression, her sudden realization as she grips the ends of her hair, especially when he presses a button and throws up a picture of an electrified cage, with the passed out bodies of her friends in there, "The vastly delayed aging, the amazing reflexes and the magnification of moral fiber. Coulson's had those vintage Captain America cards since he was a little boy, in 1943. He was just like you, created by someone else's shadow."

But her eyes are processing Queen, and although she knows this information is important, that Coulson was just like her and he knew, he _knew_ she was built from someone else, she can only stare at the screen. The cage hangs on a chain, and though it's wide and open enough for there to be a circle of space in the middle, the rest of her team has clumped together, slumped and unconscious from fights long lost. She can see the cuts and the bruises, and the tell-tale hum of electricity across the bars that cut them from the rest of the world.

So instead of falling prey to the need for power in Queen's voice, of even noticing that there was someone else like her that was on her side, she stands and lets fire bleed onto her tongue again, even though her cheek burns red and exhaustion hums sleepily through her chest. "Leave them alone! They have nothing to do with this!"

"Go to sleep and we'll wake you up when it's time to go home, Tempest."

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

And the door fell shut.

* * *

When the world blurs into focus, and Tempest can feel her mother's hands - _Bonnie's, never mine_ \- slipping away from her face to be replaced by dried tears but when hands shake her shoulders, she opens them.

Lying on her side, with her knees tucked up like a child in her chest, she just peers past them to catch a glimpse of blue eyes under a mess of blond hair. Scratches mark his face, but the savage warrior grins when she gasps and throws her arms around him, cracking just a little bit around the edges before pulling back, swiping tears from her own eyes. "K-Ka-zar. _You're okay_."

"Of course I am, sister. Our enemies cannot hold me for long; besides, I had my brother, Zabu," he remarks, and Zabu takes it as his cue to fold his large head between Tempest's arms like a child and she takes delight in pressing her face to his fur. Ka-zar laughs, patting the mane of gold that threads under her arms.

"H-How did you get out?"

"With the help of the iron bug and what he calls, his 'sonic blasters,'" and when Ka-zar gaze turns skywards just above her head, towards the door and a smile pulls at his mouth calmly, Tempest pulls out of her furry cocoon and finds her mouth stretching wide when Iron Spider and Squirrel girl bound through the doors first, the furry-tailed hero dropping unceremoniously against Tempest, wrapping her up tightly.

Behind her, Tempest can see the entire group of teenaged heroes filtering in quickly, and someone locks the door but she heeds no mind as the short-haired brunette tugs her closer, shoulders shaking with something that wasn't quite tears but wasn't quite fear, something pressed between. She collected her closer, tossing her a soft smile when she pulled back, sniffling.

"SG, shuffle a bit, would you?" comments a voice, and as she does so, Powerman drops down to his knees and holds out his hands, which Tempest deposits her wrists into like china resides dormant in her skin, something else she lost in the escape. He folds his hands around the cuffs, before pulling them apart like ripped paper, shattering the broken metal on the floor like wrapping paper. Her wrists are rubbed raw and the blood returns slowly back to her hands but she still throws her arms around him, letting the boy give her some of his insurmountable strength for a while.

"O-Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm so so _sorry_ for getting you into this, I -"

"Stop saying sorry and start getting up," comments Venom, hooking an arm around her upper arm and tugging her up, albeit slightly harshly but then again, she can't blame him - he's been stuck in a cage for over sixteen hours.

"But, the videos..."

"Basic re-wiring and breaking down some firewalls to get the video on repeat," chuckles Iron Spider, flashing his index finger which sparks with life and she's glad she can hear the smile in his voice. "Child's play, really. Now we have the element of surprise."

"Which we _really_ should be using, because I need to go to the spider potty," jokes Spiderman, hopping from foot to foot, and she can taste the laughter that blooms on her tongue. Spiderman pauses when the silence stretches like a rubber band and he sighs, "You guys are totally heartless, that was funny."

For his sake, Tiger laughed and was spared a look from the group before something tugged them outside, something unanimous and gentle that pulled and said _time to go_. The door open silently, like a closet door hiding a child rather than the graceless thrown caress of an oven door. They followed the example, footsteps sliding soundlessly on the ground as if they walked on carpet from memories long-passed, long dead in the hollows of their spines.

Tucked between Cloak and Ka-Zar, Tempest pauses for a fraction of a second, feeling the marrow in her bones stir fitfully like a hurricane and she realizes, faintly, the air is hers to control again. But it's whipped from her lungs like a magic trick, when something thick and stretchy winds around her stomach, and she's thrown to the wall, along with Triton who was a few feet away from her.

The heroes turn with a swiftness quicker than their senses, and stumble upon a girl, no more than eleven, standing with an air of confidence that shouldn't belong to an eleven year old. Her mocha skin is tucked and snipped behind a plethora of silver armor, dressed like a knife and bred to be one too.

The only fabric that covers her skin, other than the finger-less gloves she wears, is a long _hijabi_ that flows down the back of her clothes like a braid, but it does nothing to distract from the six black, tentacle like creatures that protrude from between her shoulder blades, the middle of her spine and the sides of her ribs. They look similar to Venom's, and he splutters around his words when he see's them.

They flex, an extension of herself, as she hangs a hip like a piece of string to a cat, inviting and teasing. She paused in time as Tempest and Triton pull themselves up, and she grins, fanged teeth on show. "I would've thought I'd have gotten hit for that, considering how much you all seem to care about each other."

Something embedded in the blown contents of her stomach makes Tempest crinkle slightly at the sudden trill of sorrow that pangs across the girl's words, dizzy and quick like a bullet and it's gone as quick as it came, when Nova's flame lights up brighter. "If you weren't a kid, then yeah, _heck yeah_ you would, so you're probably gonna wanna disappear when we get _really_ mad, princess. You don't mess with family."

Faintly, selfishness creeps across the girl's shoulder's and venom sits against her teeth, suckling for attention. "Contrary to popular belief, family isn't who you choose - it's what you're born into." As if a bell has been rung, the black tentacles from her shoulders shoot forwards, grasping Tiger and Venom by the ankles and spinning them in the wide hallway, enough to throw alarms into screeching terror and for windows to slam shut, metal folding over them like a child in fear.

"No more element of surprise then," comments iron Spider, before plunging the iron legs into the walls like daggers, scaling up them much like his namesake and throwing sonic blasts towards the Indian girl, who dodges them easily in the expanse of the wide hallways. But she seems overwhelmed, even though her body falls and leaps like a feather in the wind, even though she's graceful and pliant as she moves and attacks, cursing in her native tongue when she's hit and swallowing it almost immediately after, as if it never hurt. But it's a cover, and Tempest knows covers.

She throws the girl back with a thick hurricane that drops her towards the ground when she's distracted, and Spiderman webs the tentacled-girl to the floor, but she spins free with razored kicks and snaps a tentacle towards Tempest. She dodges carefully, and lands beside Dagger, as the girl warms her trademark weapon to life in her shaking hands, calming from the fear that had slipped like ice into her veins.

Iron Fist joins them, and peers over his shoulder as Tempest searches for an opening. "Dagger, calm yourself and cleanse the demons that rattle your bones. These creatures, these people, do not define you. Your fear can be conquered, that is the true measure of strength."

"You're going to be okay, Cloak's going to be okay - we're gonna get out of this and -" halfway through her words, the air is pulled from Tempest's chest again, and she's curling her fingers towards her throat, where a thick black arm curls harshly across her throat, closing her wind-pipe and she shudders in breathes like a ship splintering at the hull. Her eyes turn towards Dagger, whose building herself up one by one between her fingers, daggered teeth folding into place. "Dags, any...time now."

"I-I got it, I got it!" Dagger pauses before her fingers throw wide, four daggers in one hand and two in the other. She aims tightly and precise, taught well by the years she's been given, and a dagger each embeds in to the slithering body of the black, inked tentacles and one in particular slots through the writing body of the one that curls around Tempest's throat and it blows itself apart in a smattering of light. The girl hisses and screeches, retracting the tentacles closer to her body like a broken arm.

"Geez, what is it with bad guys and their tentacles?" jokes Spiderman, hanging upside down on the ceiling, unbeknownst to the lingering light.

The light that Dagger's weapon had given off had stayed, and had stuck itself to Tempest like glue, yet it enveloped her, warm and soft like a hug. When the light parted and shimmered away to nothing, Tempest blinked harshly, trying to push some of the light from her eyes, before a sudden breeze whipped at her from where the furious girl threw a tentacle, at her bare arms, and she shivered. But her arms hadn't been bare before.

She paused in her place, looking downwards, to find her clothes had been drastically altered, from the open shouldered sleeves to having no sleeves at all. The baggy trousers were swapped for navy blue, tight trousers with an array of pouches on belts running over her left thigh to her knee. Her shirt was now a thick leather, a slightly lighter shade of blue, that had a black design that ran across her torso, like the physical sight of the Doppler effect repeated. Her mask felt heavier around her eyes, and she realized it covered more of her face other than just around her eyes, reaching to the curve of her nose to high into her hair line.

"Dagger! What did you do? _How_ did you do that?"

Dagger shrugged her shoulders at Powerman, dodging a blackened arm. "I dunno, it's a gift!"

Tempest flew back from a punch from a dark tentacle, and smiled around the blood that flowed from her mouth. "Well, I might as well use it," she answered, before her feet propelled her into the air, hovering above the girl and slicing downwards, fingers sharp and poised as a slice of wind cuts through the metal, followed by a thick nova blast from over her shoulder and Iron Fist punching deep into the clockwork of the metallic giant that wobbled under their feet.

The girl dodged, quick and easy and fluid like water, with a snakeskin grin on her mouth, and when she lifted an arm to dart a tentacle outwards, she paused. She snapped around the edges, shattering across her skin and slowly, like time has fell back around them, the black tentacles sag and retreat like frightened animals. She wobbles on her feet and slumps to the ground as the tentacles, that had been so alive and violent moments ago, drip back into her, only making small dark splotches on her skin, like scars.

Behind her, breathing heavily, was a familiar girl with hair the colour of pure milk, and eyes wider than dinner plates as she heaved her way out of her fear with each hurried gasp of air. The group however, remained poised and alert, waiting for any signs of attack. But she never moved, she only glanced around as she slowly, painfully slow, pulled herself from her memories and Tempest could only wonder, as Magenta stared up at her with fear in her eyes, if that was how she'd looked for months, for _years_. "I'm a friend."

"The heck you are," bites Nova, filtering ragged strength between his shaking hands as he lands on the ground, fists folding around it as if to keep it tight in his possession, as if he might lose it. The nova helmet eye panels flash a lightning blue, readying for attack, as if the girl before him had thrown out a fist wrapped in malice. "I don't trust anyone here, especially you - you're the girl that threatened to _kill_ Tempest!"

"No, I wouldn't kill her, then or now," rattles off Magenta, robotic arms moving to place her hands in surrender, but all it seems to be is a red flag instead of white to the rage that beats a war drum for a heart in Nova's chest.

"Don't you _dare_ lie to me," he rasps, knuckles turning white, and Spiderman drops beside him, stealthy and silent for once as he readies himself beside the Hispanic boy, but both pause when Tempest pushes between them, putting up her hands in the same gesture as Magenta - mirror images on opposite sides. Their shoulders relax, though she can see the sharp downturn of Nova's mouth when he see's her.

"She _is_ a friend, I promise."

"Yes, but we do not sit down quietly in stranger presences," comments Iron Fist, standing beside his teammates and places a calming hand on Tempest's shoulder, and it relaxes under the familiar touch. His head lifts from her and with the air of a prince in his lungs, he gazes at the white-haired girl, nodding at her. "May I ask...Magenta, why you find yourself in the predicament of helping us?"

"Guys, we have to hurry," rasps Amadeus, sitting on his knees as he welds a particular piece of metal back into his design, recovering from a sharp kick to the abdomen that had ricocheted through his armor. The alarms still blared and if she listened, with everything inside of her, Tempest could hear the footsteps approaching. But Iron Fist lifted a hand to silence the metal-riddled boy, who obeyed instantly.

Iron Fist turns back to the dark-skinned girl, and as if on instinct, she pulls the goggles off her face and the bandanna from around her hairline, laying it on the floor at her feet, as an offering - as a sacrifice from the only life she's known. A clawed in eye blinks once, twice, until she speaks. "I-I...If I'm honest, I just...I don't want this, I n-never wanted any of this," fissures explode on her skin, worlds collide in her throat and the ashes of the fires that sprout inside her flare in her eyes. "Tempest s-said, she said that she could help. Please, I'm _begging_ you. I don't want to be someone's t-toy. I want to live."

There's no beat of silence as the words sink in, there's no sudden grasp of palms to bring her into a desperate hug, but instead, White Tiger struts past with Triton at her side and pats the shorter girl on the shoulder. Spiderman feels a swell of pride in his gut like a balloon, when he hears the smile in his girlfriend's voice. "Well, c'mon then sis, we should be getting home."

Triton nods, and gestures an arm out as the alarms stop, due to Amadeus' handiwork, "lead the way, little ink-hand."

Magenta visibly inflates and a relieved smile crosses her mouth when Tempest squeezes her hand and with no warnings, she barrels down the hallway with determination set in her battered heart and they follow after her, knocking guards out of the way and even some more children like Tempest and Magenta.

Some snickers erupt from within the group, even in the limited breathing space of this sudden mission, when Amadeus groans as the alarms erupt again, set off by some guided soldier. Over the steady thrum of the alarm, a curious Ka-zar yelled out, "Magenta, where is the director and his colleagues? We have not seen them in our journey."

"They're the ones that actually tripped the alarm, not you, I was actually sent to go with the beta team," she answers back, pausing at an intersection, her eyes slotting closed and her one good eye snapped open, turning to the opposite tunnel than to the one she pointed at, "reds that way, follow me. They're throwing everything they've got at the tower to topple it."

"But we're inside!" shrieks Squirrel Girl, bouncing over a ridge in the ceiling as she skitters through.

"They don't know that, they think you've already been transported in the twelve hours you've been here!" Magenta turns another corner, to a wide hallway that spreads open like welcome arms, and she pauses, before shuffling forwards, blowing out the white strands that fall into her eyes. "There's no reds in this room, and there," she points upwards to where the ceiling rounds downwards into a slope to the split in the hallway, "is our way out. Can any of you punch a hole through?"

"Can and will," grins Nova, the familiar cockiness flaring up around him and he shoots forwards, like the rocket he was born into, towards the soon-to-be-hole, it dents and cracks, but nonetheless, stays completely whole - but then again, they are trying to break out of SHIELD.

Suddenly, a loud yell fills the room and a yellow and green blur crashes into the metal wall, and it ricochets apart, edges curling away from each other like scorched wallpaper, but other layers reside inside, enforced and thick. Iron Fist drops to the ground again, and dodges a piece of falling metal, jogging back to the group for Powerman to throw him again. One by one, each hero tries to battle their way through the onslaught of metal, and when the light peels onto the ground around them, and they can hear the guns and bombs throwing dirt up, they've never felt more free.

"Man, those pew-pew guns never get old."

"Just start climbing, web-head."

"I crawl, you climb. _You_."

They're climbing out of the newly ripped open passageway when Magenta suddenly drops to her knees, and panic splits his teeth across Tempest's heart as the electricity that had been sleeping under her skin, _their_ skin, when the collars activation became physical, starts jumping and sizzling across her skin in electric blue smiles. She convulses on her side, eyes wide open and _scared_ beyond anything as her fingers claw desperately at the collar, and the brunette can feel the infection of her powers reach out, but they only lick at her heels when she crumbles.

Tempest chokes on a scream as she gathers the girl up into her arms, and Squirrel Girl, Nova, Cloak and Venom curl around her as she cradles the girl, whose knocked out from the sharp voltages that had rattled her clean of any consciousness. So, Tempest isn't surprised when she peers up, to find Queen absolutely drenched in blood, holding the remote.

When the New Warriors move to dart forwards, to let fury fly from their fists, he waggles the remote and shrugs off the jacket that hung around his broken shoulders, to reveal layers of plastic bombs. "Now now kids, listen to your elders. I'll kill her if you lay one hand on me."

"Emphasis on elder - what do you want?"

She tries not to flinch at the harsh tone that bites and claws at Nova's usually soft voice - well, soft for _her_ \- like a rabid animal, scratching for attention. Queen narrows his eyes at the rocket incarnate, and smirks around the split in his lip, bleeding enough that it decorates his teeth pink - as if he's just had a meal to last him for years.

He angles the remote towards the brunette, who shrugs Magenta's arm around her shoulders, and smiles. "I want _her._ "

Tempest stills, and the world blurs out of focus - Nova's angered yelling turns to white noise, Squirrel Girl's sudden intake of breath goes plastic in her ears and her heart drums harshly against her shaking ribs, against her entire skeletal structure, and it's the only thing keeping her rooted other than the arm that _needs her_ around her shoulders. An entire lifetime flashes before her eyes, something she'd rather not reminisce, and she can feel the fear crawl up her throat like an old friend, whispering for comfort.

She wants too, she wants to hide _so badly_ in plain sight, just like always. But Magenta needs her, and the doorway is open and inviting and so she shrugs the girl off of her shoulders towards Agent Venom, towards Flash, who collects the girl in his arms gently. Slowly, brokenly, Tempest peers up at him as Cloak grasps at Nova's arm to pull him back off the hooked edge he's dangling over in his anger. "Flash, get her out of here and get that collar off as soon as you can. This is ending now."

"Wait, what?"

She can sense the slow build of realization in his voice as he jostles Magenta for purchase, and she smiles almost sadly, almost lost in the darkness she used to call home. "Get home, and stay safe."

"What!?" Nova's voice is shrill and loud, but she can feel the fear blast her like a tidal wave, but she knows she's no longer talking to the hero when _Sam's_ hands are on her arms, when _Sam_ starts gripping her tightly like she's about to be lost at sea, swept out by the tidal wave. There's something nostalgic in the quiver of his shoulders, in the shake of his vocal chords that reminds her of a child scared of the dark, of losing something he can't find again, and she lets him hold on just a little tighter when he needs it. "We...we are _not_ leaving you."

"Sparky -"

"Don't you dare ask that of us, of _me_ ," his voice cracks like glass in his throat, and all she can think is _Sam, please don't cry for a ghost._ But Sam is crying and Tempest is still just a ghost of a girl, and it's not making it better when the fear of losing something else, just like his dad, flares up for something that shouldn't even exist. "I'm not leaving you here to die."

"Sam, this is your home, our home. And he took it, in less than an hour. He broke everything - me, you, the team. That's not fair," she whispers, and she brushes some dirt off of his chest and finally, _finally,_ see's him. See's the bruises that he fought so hard for, see's the child curled like a ball in the expanse of his lungs and can see the heart fluttering in fear behind the ribcage. She blinks around the sudden adoration that explodes like captured fireflies in her stomach and she doesn't know what to call it when her heart starts breaking even more when she grabs his hand, dirt mixing with blood on their palms. "I'm not dying, I'm just going away for a little while. I'll be home soon, but first, I've gotta defend it, and by myself. This is my fight, not yours."

"Tempest, please."

"Go," she murmurs, and Venom is the first to stumble back, perpetual silence crossing his vocal chords in an 'X' and Squirrel Girl falls behind when he webs to the door and shoots out of the lip of the battered Triskellion. Cloak drips away into the shadows afterwards, and Sam is still clinging, like a child to a toy to her fingers, the barest touch. "Sam, go, please."

"No."

"Sam, I'm doing this _for you_ ," it's sudden when she rips her hand from his and throws it out and for the first time - she means for the wind to smack Sam hard enough in the chest that he's flung, that's he's thrown like an unwanted piece of wrapping paper out of the screaming mouth of the Triskellion. It's not what she wanted to say, but it ricochets all the same like the volatile power that rests on her tongue.

Behind her, she hears him laugh. "Good girl."

Outside, when Nova recovers from the sudden attack, and when he's turning in mid-air to battle back in beside her, he's stopped by a powerful wind, a rushing tundra that shrouds the Triskellion from the head, to where the opening had exploded like a sore wound. He blinks in fear and his heart hammers like a jackhammer on his fury, and with sudden power, throws everything inside him towards the tundra that splits him from Tempest.

He punches and kicks and screams until suddenly, something else propels him back, something that isn't wind and it's hot and heavy and it creates burn marks in his costume but he couldn't care less, because he can hear the one sound that grates his heart to pieces.

The Triskellion slips, with the wretched sound of metal against metal and wires breaking and windows crashing as it topples in slow motion, away from him and downwards. He doesn't know if he yells or screams or stays silent over the sound of retreating and cheering from the SHIELD agents, until they notice the falling tower that reminds him of an apocalyptic day years ago. And he's paused in mid-air, like a slip of wind or a plane ready to join and he glides under, lifting a tower with two hands and terrified heart.

But it's not enough and he's slipping when something grabs him, something thick and web-induced and pulls him from under the potential wreckage, and his heart crashes when he hears the tower hit the water of the harbor and he hits solid ground, unlike the brunette still trapped in metal walls.

Vaguely, somewhere in the thrum and hum that sits in his ears, he can hear webhead berating him and Dagger pressing a motherly hand to his cheek as she tries to knock Spiderman from his lecturing perch, chewing on her lip. Fury approaches them, with a doctor beside him and Coulson on the other side.

"...I mean, this is absolutely ridiculous and _where_ is Tempest? _She'll_ knock some sense into the buckethead!"

Sudden deserved fury flashes across Nova's features, and he stands throwing a punch at Spiderman in anger as he floats in mid-air, dangerous and lethal. " _She was in there!_ She stayed behind to save _us_ , to _give us_ a chance and I was trying to keep the damn building up so she could get out, so she could somehow save her-freaking-self! You fucking idiot!"

Spiderman pauses with the sudden realization and the group bristles and as if put on cue, water explodes in a volcanic eruption, as well as dust and ash and smoke from a fire below the water, where the Triskellion had fallen and Nova's erratic heart pauses, stops beating as he watches the tower splinter into pieces, along with a wind-riddled brunette.

Sam doesn't know when he stops screaming and begins searching.


	22. xxii

**Wow, I haven't updated 'Volatile' in a year - _kidding!_ It's only January 2nd.**

 **Oh gosh, I can't believe it's actually here - the impromptu finale of 'Volatile'! God, it's been such a ride and to think this entire thing stemmed from a fragment of a dream I had, it's absolutely incredible. And, I can't express how freaking _thankful_ I am too all of you, the ones who liked, favorited, followed and reviewed every chapter, as well as the silent readers - it's mind blowing. Thank you all for allowing me to write something and let it be read, one of the highest compliments ever.**

 **So, to thank you guys, I've decided there's gonna be a spin-off to 'Volatile' called 'Caim.' I won't reveal what it is yet, or what it will entitle, but I'll put up a poll in a couple of days and you guys can attack that a little if you want too (nudge** **). But really, thanks again, and hopefully I'll see you soon, wind-bearers.**

 **Heads up, there's so much disgusting novaxtemp/hurricanehelmet shipping going on here, I'm _temp_ ted to leave.**

* * *

 **( Part Three )**

 **Chapter Twenty-two**

Family means no one

gets left behind or forgotten.

 _ **\- David Ogden Steirs (lilo & stitch)**_

* * *

In the end

I want my heart

to be covered

in stretch marks.

 ** _\- Andrea Gibson_**

* * *

It would be three days.

Three days before even the slightest thing occurred, before the Tricarrier - the impromptu new home of the New Warriors - was sent into chaos, organized and efficient, but still chaos in metallic walls.

Through the days, the monitors in SHIELD's hands had detected dormant human life that had sunk to the bank of the Hudson like a brick, with the help of Magenta, but it was fractured and almost completely gone when Triton had delved into the water, pulling up and exploding out of the water, gasping for breath every ten minutes. Even for a mutant with fins and gills, he was still human and with a heavy heart, depicted that whatever life down there was gone for only the fish to see.

During the three days, a ticking time bomb had replaced Nova's - _Sam's_ \- heart, and he screamed and yelled at the mutant when he concluded there could be nothing down there. The dummies in the training room had done nothing to ease his anger, his frustration at the quaking loss he felt, similar to the others and that's how Spiderman - _Peter_ \- found him, helmet off, eyes wide and ribs cracked open to the ceiling.

He dropped beside him, folding his hands on his stomach and his eyes sifting around the room awkwardly, mouth perched on the edge of comfort but his throat was clogged with something black and nasty, wanting to fold into the familiar snark he held around the Hispanic boy. But snark and teasing wouldn't dissolve the ache that would be left in their bones from the hole in their family, albeit however small.

"So...how's your day going?"

Sam sighed and threw an arm over his eyes. "You're actually hopeless."

Peter squawks, but stills himself against the hand that raises to punch at the boy and lets it drift to his side, flinching at the coldness of the training floor. "Look, Sam, I...goddamn it, I'm usually good at this, but with you it's...hard. I don't know what you're thinking; I _never_ know what you're thinking, I can only guess," he rambles, drawing his fingers to the base of his shirt, pulling and tweaking at the fabric, "and if it's wrong, you can't yell at me or start crying because I can't even handle _girls_ crying, how do you think -"

"Just spit it out."

Peter stills once more and drags his eyes away from the flash of jade under his arm, staring across the dirt and the footprints that marr the floor - showing the others had been there too - that decorate with a story of old training sessions and worked out stress. His eyes squeeze closed, flinching, just Like Tempest had. "But, I'm guessing you got attached. To Tempest. Like, _badly_."

Sam's chest raises in an unamused snort, and he sits in a fluid motion, bending his chest over his knees and picking and peeling at a determined smudge of dirt by his foot, clad in a pair of trainers, worn down by the years. "Really? What makes you say that?"

"Don't mess with me like that, I was gonna answer that."

Sam rolls his eyes, and a beat pauses between them like a brick wall. Then, suddenly, Sam starts to crumple, brick by brick, piece by piece, and Peter can only explain it as a star falling out of existence when the light dies in the cosmic boy's throat. His hand tweaks and rubs over his face, trying to banish the guilt that sits in his cheeks, the sorrow that closes his eyes to the world. " _God,_ " the word is thick and raw, and Peter cringes instantly, "I was such an ass to her when I met her. I yelled at her, I made fun of her - heck, I even acted like I was her dad."

"Seriously? _You?_ "

"Yeah, and she was just this tiny little thing that reminded me of Kaelynn and I dunno," he presses his forehead into his hand, staring at the negative space between his knees, hoping it will swallow him because he's already had this conversation with Danny and Fury and now it's _Peter_ , freaking Peter that's worried. Sam's never been one for quiet emotions, silent suffering - but maybe Tempest slipped something into his heart when he wasn't looking for him to act like this. "I guess, I got overprotective. And that sorta, maybe, got a bit bigger to the point that...I couldn't _breathe_ when the tower fell, when I knew she was in there."

"A lot of us couldn't, Sam," concludes Peter, sitting up and spinning on his rear like a child and planting his feet by Sam's, not touching but still comforting as he picks at a loose thread. "That's what loss is - it's so final and damaging that it literally takes your breath away."

 _Takes your breath away._ Sam wants to laugh at the sudden metallic-tasting irony in his stomach, because now he can feel his breath just fine, but there's something lodged like plastic in his esophagus, something hidden and whilst everyone thinks he's slowly coping, he's choking on something vile and broken. He's choking and he can't cough it up; it's not the type of thing you get rid of for a long, long time. So he deals with it, in his own, special, quiet way of dealing.

"But it's important," continues Peter, peering up under a mess of brown locks and he chews on his bottom lip, worrying a faint scar over the curve, "that we get over it as soon as possible."

Sam's voice is practically a growl. "It's been _three days_."

"Three days of nothing, zip. I know it's not want you want to hear right now, I didn't when Uncle Ben passed away, but I'm sorta experienced in this kinda thing," he treads around the boy carefully, feeling his heart thrum with _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,_ but Sam's deaf from not only the ringing from the explosion but from the pain that scores itself like claws inside of him, ripping him raw. "And, the quicker you try to forget _what_ happened, not who, I dunno, it made it easier for me. But you can always remember them in whatever way you need too."

He tries not to watch how his hands shake slightly or how the world blurs at the edges the way it _shouldn't_ , the way it's not meant too, because he isn't touchy-feely, he isn't emotional but still, the world blurs a little more and hesitatingly, Peter puts his hand on Sam's shoulder. He shakes him slightly, trying to knock him back into the real-world because Sam is an entire world away - heck, he was on the moon yesterday for six hours.

"You need to try and move on a bit."

"If it were Ava?"

Four words send the boy completely speechless for a moment, eyes sliding wide before he crumbles, folding like origami to the floor and running his hands over his face, groaning. "Oh god, Sam, don't do this, not now," he whines, pressing the heels of his hands to his closed eyes to stop the fluttering as he tries to comprehend, tries to understand, what the boy's just said. "Don't bring Ava in. God, why didn't you tell anyone?"

He knows without looking the half-hearted shrug, and the sad, nostalgic smile tweaks on Sam's face as he draws something in the dirt by his feet and fiddles with the helmet by his hip - tweaking at the battered star that carries a few scorch marks further into it's legacy. "I didn't...I didn't see it myself until she started saying stuff like 'I'm finishing this' and I got so freaking terrified, and I didn't wanna leave her, but the stubborn thing _made_ me. Now that I realize it, I was protective over Dagger until I realized she liked girls and I didn't have a shot."

"Jeez, Sam," chokes Peter, pressing his hand into the mess of Sam's raven hair when he sits up, messing it beyond it's already tousled appearance, black spikes on end. "Point taken, but _wow._ I don't even have a comeback for that at all, and I practiced."

"I knew you practiced your speeches in the mirror."

Peter huffs in annoyance, but it lifts his spirits to see Sam's mouth tweak upwards slightly, as if on string because it falls once again as his brow furrows in spilled annoyance, in cracked loss. Yet Peter, against every fight they've ever had or every tousle they've shared, pulls Sam into the quickest hug ever, attempting to at least lend him a bit of his super strength for a while. When Sam pierces him with a raised eyebrow, Peter shrugs and pulls on his mask to the bridge of his brows.

"I didn't know what to do, so I did that," and he pulls himself up into a standing position, stretching long arms over his head and nodded towards the door. "Do you want anything to eat? I'm buying."

"Not really."

But Sam's jerked upwards by the end of his sentence that isn't really a sentence, by the scruff of his neck and he's reminded of nights that ended with going to bed early and Sam levels a glare at the smirking brunette. "Yeah you do. Now put on the helmet and do that asshole thing you're so good at - you know, flying a few inches above me."

It's sudden and quick, but Sam feels a little bit lighter when Peter tugs him out of the room, tossing him in a carefree attitude and every bit of joking and teasing slides between his bones like an old friend returning home. The others have tiptoed around him, afraid of receiving the same outburst Triton had been on the wrong end of, afraid of sending him breaking. But Peter's always tried to push him hard enough, has always been on the wrong end, so he stomps his feet and _demands_ , not asks, for Sam to _just eat something_.

So he slips on the helmet and Peter pulls on the mask and Nova takes flight, even in the dingy, closed hallway of the Tricarrier compared to the Triskellion, and he feels lighter than ever. But that's before the organized chaos hits and Nova is thrown back in exchange for a brisk amount of doctors and nurses gliding past them, whispering hurriedly under their breaths.

"Oh thank God - guys, I found them!" calls back Tiger, bounding up towards the two confused boys and grabbing Spiderman by the arm instantly, as Venom and Squirrel Girl wander around the corner, though their feet hardly leave the ground as Tiger proceeds to pull Spiderman further down the corridor in the opposite direction, the way the doctors were going, like a child.

"T-Tiger. Tiger! Calm down, what's got your fur in a bunch?"

"Triton's back. You won't freaking believe it."

* * *

She's halfway there, reaching out with collapsed fingers and broken lungs and there's water forcing it's way through her throat when the world comes into view for a minute or two. Her eyelids feel heavy, and they burn when she tries to lift the lead weights attached to her eyelashes with all her strength, but they pull down again against her volition.

Somewhere distantly, she feels familiar skin - _wet from the water_ \- leave her in exchange for the doctor's bed that greets her, stale and stiff from thankfully, lack of use. There's voices, murmuring and low around her and somewhere far off, in another world, she can hear her name in someone's mouth, and the sound of hurried breathing lulls her to sleep.

She is not awake when they push through the doctors.

* * *

Damaged eyesight pulls her out of the concave tunnel she's been built into, and she flinches against the harsh light when she opens her eyes, slotting them closed once again. So she keeps them closed, blocks out the light that feels buttery and _brilliant_ on her frozen skin and tries to concentrate on other things. Other things like the metallic scent of blood in the air and the pain that rips across her left rib and the hand that rests against her hip.

It moves slowly, up and down, as if to calm her and she can feel the powerful arm it's connected too stretch over her stomach, leaden down by something she can only describe as sleep, when she hears the soft, easy sniffles from the head beneath her chin. When she breathes, she can feel the creak in her bones, like a ship lost at sea too long has come home. The broken and cracked vocal chords in her throat brush against the pieces of wood from the mainsail that sprouts in her chest.

Sleep comes naturally once again, and she remembers a time when all she ever did was sleep, once upon a time.

* * *

The world comes back slowly, fragments splintering apart on her teeth when she grasps at the sheets with her right hand, vaguely knowing it's her _right_ hand, because she can finally feel whilst being conscious. She can feel the sheets scrape past her legs and can feel the twitch and movement of one or two ribs, bone scraping against bone in labored breathes and the pain that explodes beneath her lungs, locked there by some unmovable wall.

She can taste the world in her throat, the blood that's been spilled and she wants to curl back in on herself, but she can't move her legs until a few moments later, can only twitch her toes, and at the same time, the world floods her eyes.

Again, her eyelids slot closed, but she's been relieved of a few weights in return for strength and she tugs her eyes open, to stare at the familiar room - although it's cold, harsh and metallic demeanor should send anyone back into sleep, she preened under the warmness it expelled, the strange fondness she'd collected from it. It pulls itself from behind her breastbone and grows, blossoming like a cherry in summertime and when she tries to move her hands, to help her sit up, she finds one of them captured.

Pausing, she turns towards something with slight pain, and lifts her mouth into a smile at the sight of raven black hair. Behind him, she briefly notices the collection of sleeping friends and Squirrel Girl tucked up into a ball on the bed on her left, sharing with Iron Fist and Venom and Triton take up the other side. A few are missing, like Tiger, Spiderman and Ka-zar, but she doesn't mind as she looks over the dark-haired boy, clutching her hand to his face in both of his and bent over, deep in thought.

He stills slightly when her hand twitches it's way out of his, fear crawling like claws in his shoulders when he's staring at the empty space where painfully small hands had been, and they're suddenly pressing through his hair from the hairline, pushing back the tousled spikes in _hesitation_ , that grows in every bit of her, he knows it isn't Ava who'd collected him like a cracked toy into her arms days before, uncharacteristically motherly. He knows exactly who it is, because they pause as if waiting for permission and he presses into the hand willingly, looking up towards her.

Her eyes are sunken in and ringed red, and there's a bandage around her temple and a long one that slips beneath her clothes on her throat, and he can tell without looking, there's a kaleidoscope of cuts and bruises and broken bones further, but he doesn't dare venture as his smile matches hers. She sucks in a breath, moving slightly as she tilts her head upwards, eyes closing again but not from the pain of the light. Then, she pulls down again, settled and comfortable as his hand laces with hers, still guiding itself through his mane of blackened spikes, guiding her home.

Her brow furrows and her nose wrinkles when she feels pain pull itself like a wire across her chest. "W-Why am _I_ always in the hospital bed?"

Her voice croaks and rumbles, completely different to the normal trill of her voice, and Sam almost moved away to grab her a drink, before she huffed a laugh, ghosting a hand across her chest. She chews on her bottom lip absent-mindedly, and turns her head to gaze at the surroundings again. "Should w-we wake the others?"

"Nah, let them sleep for a little bit," he comments, and he's surprised at how steady his voice is, because he can feel tectonic plates wobbling inside of him, can feel a volcano breaking apart in his stomach. He draws a shape on the back of her thumb, comforting and slow as he calms his breathing.

She nods and repeats the before action, settling further into the sheets. "How long have I been out?"

"A day or two, I didn't really count. How you feeling?"

"Well, there's a nasty pain in my ribs a-and I think I got a few more scars on my face," she absent-mindedly points to the general area of her face and Sam hiccups with a laugh and his breath catches when her hand slots over his, patting it gently. "What about you? You look like you thought I'd _died_ or some - oh."

She catches the down-turn of his eyes, the falter of his mouth when she voices her worries and how his hands slip further down her fingers, towards her wrist from the shock, as if searching for more of her to grab onto. He wobbles off the edge, laughing away the undeserved fear that had lodged itself like the shrapnel that had exploded from the bomb, or else he will begin crumbling like the final brick beneath him had been slipped out of place.

So when she opens her arms, actually _inviting_ him for comfort that she wouldn't normally offer, it takes all his willpower to not drop into the embrace, to make sure she's still there, under his fingertips. But he lifts a hand and feels a swell of pride when she doesn't flinch when his fingers tuck a few errant strands of brown locks away, keeping his hand by her ear, because he needs to say this. "You're not allowed to do that again, ever. To me, to any of us. We really thought you were dead; we searched for _days_ , brown eyes."

Something akin to guilt pulls at her eyes, dripping like ice in the awful, quiet way she does and it breaks his heart just a little, and she smiles sadly, but it's better than nothing. "I-I'm sorry, I really am. But...it needed to end. I was running for so long and -"

"You got tired. It's okay, you don't have to explain," and he's never felt more proud when her chest deflates from the build-up of nervous air that she'd collected there. Then, because he's been waiting, he presses his forehead against her shoulder, hands slotting around her waist over the covers and normally, being in such an intimate position with a girl, who was carding her fingers through his hair and across his shoulders would have sent his cheeks reddening. But for the time being, with their friends asleep and the world paused on the edge, he's allowed this because she'd _almost died_.

"You all got out okay?"

"Yeah, there were a few injuries but nothing major."

"Magenta too?"

"Magenta too."

She huffs a glad sigh, and thumbs a bruise on the cheekbone of his face, and he leans into it thankfully, breathing through the worry that, before had hurt, but eased like the lap of a river against his chest. He doesn't know how it's happened, but she's _learned_ and she _knows_ him, more than he thought possible and Sam realizes it's taking a lot of his willpower not to kiss her. He opens his mouth, but something like a door opening and someone waking up stops him, so he folds it away for later hours.

Nick Fury's arrival seems to spark the others waking up, especially White Tiger's sudden gasp as she files in beside him and a soft sob pulls from her mouth as she pulls the shorter brunette into a hug. Spiderman whoops loudly, startling Iron Spider so harshly awake he tumbles from his perch against the foot of Squirrel Girl's makeshift hibernation nest beside Iron Fist.

"Oh god, you're awake, you're _actually awake!_ Oh g - don't you ever do that again, ever! Oh, we're just glad you're safe," murmurs Tiger as she gives the girl another quick hug, before composing herself back into her normal, perfectionist self. But a smile breaks through, unbidden and rightly deserved when Tempest grins without hesitation.

"Sweet Christmas, you seriously gave us a shock," comments Powerman, as the girl folds her arms around his waist when he approaches the bed and stands aside for her to bump fists with Iron Fist. "Don't do that, we were going nuts."

"I'll try not too," she smiles around folded words and pulls herself higher when The Director stands at the base of the bed, arms folded behind his back and every inch of authority that Tempest, months ago, would've flinched away from and crawled away as if he planned to burn her with the heat in his eyes. But now, with the threat of Queen smeared to just a painful mark on her timeline, she smiles in respect to the man and knows the heat in his eyes is anything but anger.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Tempest," and when she nods, he continues, much like a boat going down a river - there's a long way to go, "now, I don't think I have to tell you what you did was _stupid_ , and _irresponsible_ and stupid again, but I'll admit - it was brave and that's the way we taught you. You put your training to the test and you did it irrevocably well, so we're proud. I told you you'd do great things."

She tries not to preen, tries to bite on the edges of a smile on her reddened cheeks but when Venom curls an arm around her shoulders and jokingly whoops quietly in her ear and gets smacked away by Spiderman, she can't help it. So she nods with a grin on her mouth and pride in her heart.

"But, we need to ask, what happened in the tower?"

And the smile is gone, swiped away by the words and her eyes turn downwards, connecting dots and diagrams and constellations like pins in a piece of paper, trying to guide her way back to when the tower fell, when her home split apart because of the bombs on a man and the hurricane she'd wrapped around it. Had she contained the blast? Had she kept the world from feeling the same terror it felt years before?

"I-I don't...I think he's gone; he wasn't with me when I fell."

Fury hums low in his throat, something discordant and slightly annoyed at the lack of information, in being out of the loop and he nods. "Well, we know what happened _outside_. The blast was contained and a third of the tower was removed before falling into the ocean. HAL retreated with the loss of Queen and the rest is obvious."

"Obviously," comments Tempest dryly, smiling when someone snorts and Fury sends her a soft look, with his eyes narrowed but devoid of the usual hardness they hold and she nods at him. "How'd I even survive the blast? I was underwater for _three days_ which probably didn't help much, and I should've been crushed." She ignores the way Sam hangs on tighter to her, and her heart cracks a little under broken ribs.

"We believed it had something to do with your powers with the wind," says Fury, and he taps and pulls up a square of information, blocks of text and Tempest can only skim-read the information on the holographic projector before looking back to Fury with expectant brown eyes, incredibly different from the way curiosity had reached her, forcing her to do it on her own. But she didn't have too, at least, not anymore. "Due to your ability to control air, we think that your lungs must have stored enough air to breathe underwater for three days and due to the slow breathing, it slowed your heart rate as well to one heartbeat a minute, so you were basically conscious without being conscious, with all your organs just moving at a slower pace. Moreover, Connors confirmed that your powers were active the entire time," he continues, and the blocks of text move to show a diagram of a body with a large dome around it, "and he theorized that you created a sort of dome of air around yourself when you went underwater, so you could survive the debris and have a longer air supply. He thought you could have easily gone two weeks and why you came out with such a limited collection of wounds."

"Sweet Christmas," wonders Powerman, carding a hand through the buzz of hair on his head in astonishment and Tempest's cheeks flush slightly.

"She's _totally_ a superhero."

"Flash, she already _is_ a superhero."

"That's fun to know, but, uh, when am I gonna be able to get out of here? I'm not a fan of hospitals."

And Fury smiled, soft and unguarded for once in his spy-riddled life. "We know. It'll be a while, you have a few cracked ribs and a sprained ankle, as well as some other cuts and scrapes, but Iron Fist has concluded he'll help in the healing department," and when Iron Fist shrugs a smile, Fury's shoulders relax just a little bit. "But, you must have done something right, kid, because I've never heard of someone so close to an explosion getting so little."

But Tempest only smiles, in that silent way she does, and rubs a thumb over Sam's hand when it tightens around hers again. "Must have, huh?"

* * *

It's a couple of weeks later, almost a month and a half when she's allowed to resume training, combined with SHIELD's advanced doctors and Iron Fist's healing properties, her bones have knitted together and the cuts and scrapes from the blast are just smudges on her skin. Her legs no longer creak with the use of hurting bones, and her chest no longer spreads apart with ash. Scars will remain, but scars have always done so and Tempest doesn't blink when she catches a particularly nasty one tug it's way across her left rib.

But she bounces with excitement towards the training room, having been antsy and fidgety for weeks without the usual training session and she glides through the automatic doors instantly. She half misses the webhead sailing over her, trying to duck away from Iron Spider's blasts playfully and her mouth tugs wide, slightly crooked teeth on display as she tries to move towards the center of the room, dodging Spiderman's goading at Iron Spider.

She's folded into a hug instantly on contact, and her arms wrap around Powerman's waist as he pulls her into the conversation, a big brother scooping his younger sibling delicately into the group. His mouth splits wide, matching hers with blinding intensity like the sun blooms in the corners of his lips, just like always. "Glad you're back in the game. We missed you."

She pulls her arms around him tighter in response, before her eyes pull away to the fourth person of the group, as quiet as always, with the Magenta bandanna wrapped around her hairline, pulling milky white locks back from her eyes. The Nubian girl pauses, and Tempest with the new found need for adventure, for exploration thrumming a tune in guitar strings across her veins, steps out of Powerman's embrace and curls Magenta into hers instead.

The darker-skinned girl stiffens and Tempest _knows_ , she knows what it's like to be afraid of touch to the point you fear even your own skin on you that hides every crevice and crook filled with nightmares of a life once lived, and she can still see the painful ring of red that folds around Magenta's throat, fading into a scar. She _knows_ the fear, but over the months, Tempest's fear, even if it is still lodged somewhere inside her, has settled into something smaller and childlike in design, so gossamer and unknown that she has to stretch to even brush a hand over it. Tempest _knows_ some days, that's what the hurt feels like and others, the hurt will press down like the world is crushing your chest - she _knows,_ and she lends herself for a bit to ease the weight of the scar that sits on Magenta's throat.

"It's good to see you really did come through with us, Magenta," she murmurs from her perch against Magenta's collarbone, and steps back to allow her space and the girl finally breathes, though she smiles. Her hand slides, unconsciously, over the ring of red as if to remind her why she's there.

"Yes, it's...strange to be somewhere so open, and," Magenta's gaze slides towards Triton from the corner of her eye, the corners of her lips twitching upwards in a rare smile, "I believe that I would like to be called Ink-hand, if that is, okay?" Tempest smiles and gives a firm nod when she takes the bandanna off of her forehead, distinctly remembering to forget the way Triton's head tilts to better hear the girl's soft voice.

"Sweet Christmas, the Tricarrier? _Open?_ "

Powerman laughs, deep and loud and happy and it fills Tempest with joy when Iron Fist crosses his arms with a fond smile and Magenta - _Ink-hand_ \- slides her eye in amusement. An arm is dropped around her shoulders and a sly look is sent up to Flash, peering down at her with his trade-mark grin, glowing brightly.

"Compared to a football field, this thing's _huge_."

"Is it _always_ football with you?"

She's caught up with the annoyance in Amadeus' voice and the rare smile tucked across Rhino's features when a hand grasps her wrist. She's tugged out of Flash's arm hold with an indignant _'hey!'_ sprouting from his throat and she only glances up into jade green eyes for a fraction of a second before the world tilts. A hand lands on her waist and the subtle, familiar mischievous smile sits on his mouth before _something_ touches hers. He was _kissing her_.

Slowly, her eyes close of their own volition and a hand is pressed against the back of her hair, keeping her hostage but she hardly minded. Her own hands land on his shoulders, not pushing but clutching, almost desperately as he pulls back, huffing a laugh from his lungs almost nervously and Tempest blinks around her shock and confusion.

Sam scoops up his helmet from a grinning Dagger whilst placing both hands on Tempest's waist, and peers around at the jaw-dropped expressions of the group. His smile widens as Tempest rakes a hand through her hair, staring at Dagger wide-eyed over Sam's shoulder, whose fell into a puddle of laughter along with Ka-zar, who struggles to hide his laughter behind a curled fist.

"Anyone got a problem with that? Hm?" silence penetrates the entire room, and Flash's hand is shot down by Amadeus. " _Good._ "

Spiderman, somewhere, murmurs of _'I knew it'_ before shrugging off to input his data for training session today, and Iron Fist says something cryptic by the time Sam, turned Nova with the helmet on his head, looks back towards the wide-eyed girl, almost sheepishly and everyone disperses. She's still staring into nothing, a small ball of confusion tucked between her brows and he almost starts apologizing.

"S-Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you just kiss me?"

He wants to snort, he really does, at the suspicion that laces her voice like silk. But he only bites down on his nervousness and replaces it for his usual cockiness. "I've sorta been holding off for a while now, so you could heal up a little bit before I actually did it, but yeah, I did. Speaking of which, I wanted to know if you wanted to go see a movie?"

His hands start to pull away when she doesn't respond but slowly, just like her recovery, she places her hands on his and the shy, quiet smile she has sits on her mouth again. Tempest laces them herself, knotting them securely at the base of her back like a ribbon and joy swells in his lungs at the quiet action, that's just for him. Peering up, red paints her cheeks and when she nods, she murmurs quietly, so quietly she has to repeat it. "...Can we do it again?"

"Oh, am I that good?"

"Just shut up, Sparky, before I change my mind."

He moves, with a grin like a stare and her heart fluttering like a bird on the wind, to slot his mouth over hers before delicately whispering, "you're a volatile little thing, aren't you, Tempest?"

"Sam, did you _just_ figure that out?"

 _\- fin_


End file.
